


Hold back the years, hold back the hours

by WantsUnicorns



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Infidelity, M/M, Panic Attacks, Phobias, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WantsUnicorns/pseuds/WantsUnicorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is sentenced to a year of community service at the ministry with Harry as his custodian, old hostilities arise and nobody can tell where life will lead them. The consequences of what happens haunt them both for years to come and neither of them will ever be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold back the years, hold back the hours

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for serpentinelion's Glompfest over at LJ  
> First and foremost a massive “Thank You” to my wonderful, beautiful, amazing, patient and irreplaceable beta! Without her, this wouldn’t have existed. Thank you for taking the time to work on this with me. You’ve been brilliant throughout and I wouldn’t have missed doing this with you for the world! Thank you!  
> I’d also like to thank a certain group of fellow author’s for their support, their encouragement and for putting up with my constant whining. You know who you are! ♥  
> For your personal entertainment and my own, I give you about two thirds of my handwritten notes: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v138/Nimielle/Etc/Glompfestnotesaglimpse.jpg. I’ve never written anything this long and it has been quite a ride, it’s eaten up most of my free time and life or so it feels, but I’ve enjoyed it, I hope so will everyone else.  
> Acknowledgements: Song quotes were taken from "Gloomy Sunday" and the version I am referring to is that by Sarah McLachlan, there’s part of "You Silly Git" by Dan Mangan in there, part of a song called "(I can't seem to) make you mine" by The Clientele and elements of a letter as it appears in the 1995 film version of "Persuasion". Incidentally I stole the title from a Patrick Wolf song called "This Weather". Much of the structure in this scheme of rejection stems from the beautiful song "Unlovable" by Darren Hayes.
> 
> Also the version posted here includes the extended epilogue that was not posted during glompfest.

**Hold back the years, hold back the hours,  
(I want to live to see the sun break through these days)**

His hands were wet with perspiration, and his heart was hammering away in his chest like a tiny frightened bird flapping its wings desperately trying to escape the confinements of its cage. The sharp lines of the carved wood cut sharply into his back as he pressed himself against the door, his breath leaving his mouth in short panicked gasps. 

He was alright, or he would be. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day. Maybe tomorrow he could try again. Yes, tomorrow he’d be able to leave. Just rest for another day. Rest and preparation that was all he needed. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his erratic breathing, willing away the feeling of millions of insects crawling just beneath his skin. Tomorrow.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

“…why’d we have to take another one of those Harry? I don’t see why it’s our job to rehabilitate scum like him.”

“I’m not exactly happy with this Ron, but we don’t really have a choice. We are the newest additions to the department and despite what we did during the war, what the minister says goes, Ron. You know that.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it, why does it have to be Ferret Face anyway, couldn’t we have got someone else?”

“I don’t like it either, I only hope he gets here soon so we can get this over with, I don’t much fancy spending all day showing him the ropes!”

Draco could hear them talking as he approached.

“Oy Malferret! What’s taking you so long? Get your arse in here and get to work, I haven’t got all day, unlike you!” Weasley shouted at him.

“Don’t get your frilly pink knickers in a twist Weaselby! I’ll be right over.”

“I am going to slap the privileged son of a-…”

“Ron, calm down, I’ll deal with this.”

Draco strolled into Potter and Weasley’s office as if he owned it, his confident stride not betraying the inner turmoil. It was only twelve months he told himself, he would survive twelve month of community service under the supervision of the two youngest Aurors in Department History. He was a Malfoy after all and if Malfoys knew one thing, it was how to survive in style and twist circumstances to suit them. Surely it couldn’t be that bad.

Two hours later, after having sorted through and replied to who knew how many letters of adoration to the wizarding world’s favourite boy hero with signed photographs, Draco was forced to change his opinion. It wasn’t only that bad, it was much much worse. The next twelve months were going to be hell.

The Wizengamot had sentenced Draco to a year of community service under a guardian and should the guardian fail to report back on his rehabilitation favourably, that would be turned into twenty-four months in Azkaban. He knew he’d been lucky to get off that lightly. All other known Death Eaters had been treated much more harshly; however no other Death Eater had Harry Potter speak at their trial in their favour. Draco had never understood why the man had chosen to testify for him. It was evident, however, that Draco hadn’t been forgiven.

With Potter as his guardian, he was forced to do whatever menial task the man might come up with and the attractive git had definitely a creative vindictive streak when it came to dealing out humiliating punishments.

“How’s the fan mail coming, Malfoy?”

“How do you think it’s going? What am I, your secretary?”

“You know very well you aren’t, because unlike you, my _secretary_ is getting paid for his work!”

Draco didn’t even look up and merely continued to address the envelopes he’d already filled with signed photographs. His handwriting was far neater than Potter’s, but he doubted that anyone cared. He wished they hadn’t taken his wand so he wouldn’t have to do this by hand, but one of the conditions of the sentence was that any task would have to be performed without magic. Well bugger that!

Potter was standing in front of Draco’s desk now, obviously expecting an answer. He was bending over it, while supporting his weight on his knuckles, like some ape-man. The comparison made Draco smile.

“Something funny Malfoy? Maybe you’d like to share it with the class!”

The smile vanished from Draco’s pale features as quickly as it had appeared.

“No Potter, nothing funny about having me reply to your deranged groupies.”

Potter was on Draco’s side of the desk in an instant, grabbing his arms and pulling him upright, slamming his back into a nearby wall.

“You’re only here because I agreed to be your guardian. Don’t think for a minute, that I’ll be lenient with you or that this is something that I volunteered to do. The only reason I testified on your behalf was because of what your mother did for me during the war.”

“You are hurting me Potter. I sure hope you treat your prisoners better than your charges…” Draco could feel his lips curl into a sneer.

Potter’s eyes blazed with a fury Draco hadn’t expected. Taunting Potter had always been a game to him. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that Potter was ready to kill him.

“Do I look like I care?” Potter snarled, flicking his wand at the open door, making it slam shut with a resounding crash, without even once looking away. Sudden fear washed over Draco. Nobody would care what happened to him here. Nobody would even ask questions why Death Eater scum had accidentally tripped down a flight of stairs and got hurt in the process.

“Calm down, Potter” Draco said, his voice shaky. “I apologise.”

“For what? For supporting a megalomaniac madman? For getting half my family killed? For breaking my nose? For making my life hell? For what Malfoy?” Potter was screaming now. “Do you even think I’d want an apology from someone like you? How can you even think you could do anything that would make up for the pain you’ve caused?” 

Potter slammed Draco back into the wall for a second time, pinning his wrists beside his head. Draco’s skin chafed as it came into contact with the rough fabric of the wallpaper and he was sure that Potter’s strong grip would leave bruises on his pale skin. 

“I…”

“Oh just shut up Ferret Face!”

Draco didn’t know how he was going to get out of this; obviously apologising had been a bad move despite it seeming like the right thing to do at the time. Draco wished he could think clearly, but having Potter this close was incredibly distracting If only Potter wasn’t so damn attractive when his every fibre was humming with rage, his treacherous thoughts added. If Potter came any closer, he’d find out just how distracting he was being. Draco had to act and soon.

He let his stance relax in so far as that was possible in Potter’s tight grip, cast his eyes down submissively and hunched his shoulders to appear smaller and more helpless than he was. Everything about him seemed to scream ‘I am scared, protect me.’ Behaviour like that wasn’t befitting a Malfoy, but it did have the desired effect. Potter backed off. Survival, it was all about survival – for the next twelve months at least. Repeating this like a mantra inside his head, Draco finally looked up quickly before lowering his gaze again.

Potter was running his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. Guilt and worry clouded his beautiful green eyes behind his idiotic glasses and almost made Draco regret his deception. He wanted to lean in, touch Potter’s cheek and tell him it was alright, things would be okay, that he didn’t bear any grudges. 

He was aware that they were all just highly-strung at the moment and nobody really knew how to deal with their trauma after the war. So instead Draco slowly lowered his arms and began massaging his bruised and chafed wrists, shooting Potter an accusing glare, before remembering the role he was supposed to be playing. He cast his eyes down again and mumbled something.

“What? Malfoy, what did you say?” Potter leaned in closer, concern clear in his voice. 

Draco indicated Potter’s wand and then his wrists and repeated what he’d said before.

“Could you maybe cast a healing charm? I can’t work like this. I would do it myself but…” his voice trailed off in genuine regret now.

“Look, I’m sorry…” instead of continuing, Potter quickly healed Draco’s wrists with a flick of his wand. The silence stretching between them became awkward and Draco caught himself staring at Potter’s slightly parted lips. Potter must have noticed it too, but he didn’t say anything. 

It was no secret that Draco was gay – everyone knew, or so he assumed. He’d never even tried to keep it hidden. What would be the point of that really?

Potter visibly shook himself, dragging himself and Draco back to their immediate reality.

“Okay Malfoy, here’s how we’re going to play this and you’d better pay attention!”

Draco just nodded, waiting for Potter to go on.

“First we need to cast some ground rules. You will call me either Mr. Potter or Auror Potter, both when we are alone or at the ministry. You will do anything I ask you to, without complaint, no matter how menial the task might seem to you. In return I’ll make sure the others don’t come up with tasks just to humiliate you. You will not have any contact or relations with any Death Eaters or any of your former house mates.”

Potter’s gaze was intense and Draco barely kept himself from shuddering and trying to shrink to appear even smaller under such scrutiny. He nodded again.

“Since the sentence said that you need twenty-four-hour supervision you will be staying at Grimmauld Place with me. We’ll pick up your things from Ministry Convict Accommodation later today and get you settled in at my house tonight. You will floo to work from there every morning and report in with me half an hour before shift starts. After work you’ll go straight back to your room at my house. You will only leave your room to eat, work or use the facilities. Any questions?”

This time Draco did shudder as Potter’s sudden authority washed over him. He’d thought Azkaban would be bad. Draco hadn’t expected his sentence to mean that he would be confined to stay in Potter’s close proximity for the duration of it, essentially cutting him off from the wizarding world at large. It was a scary thought. Draco forced himself to reply to Potter’s question, if only to stop himself from breaking down and crying at the cruel lot fate had dealt him.

“Yes. Why me?”

Potter chuckled.

“Are you asking the universe? I am sure Trelawney could help you there. Going to see her would probably make you feel better. She hasn’t predicted my slow painful demise in a while. I’m sure you’d enjoy that.” 

Draco wouldn’t enjoy that. In fact, he’d hate it if Potter died in the near future, and not only because he was the only one who could vouch for him and keep him out of Azkaban at the end of his sentence.

“No, you utter berk… uh, Mr. Potter.” This was ridiculous. Draco cleared his throat and tried again. “Why did you speak for me?”

Potter’s whole attitude seemed to change. He straightened up, took several steps back and unlocked the door before replying.

“That’s none of your business, Malfoy. Now get back to work, I’ll be checking up on your progress again in an hour.”

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

That’s how it went for the next few months. Draco would work on whatever task Potter decided to give him. He’d never complain, he’d never even speak unless spoken to, and before he knew it, the first quarterly review of his case and conduct had come and gone.

The daily routine was always the same. Draco would sit behind his desk, cross-referencing some runes from a case Potter was working on, doing some research or some other task the man or the department had chosen to settle him with. At least cross-referencing the runes they had on file at the ministry had been, if not interesting, at least intellectually challenging. Still, it hadn’t been as annoying as having to go through piles of letters full of praise for the Chosen One, every day. Most of them were harmless. While you found your usual hero-worship, your occasional pressed flower, poem and frilly underwear, there had also been some covered in unidentified fluids that Draco refused to investigate further. Potter had vanished those instantly on each occasion, the last one prompting him to storm out of the office and get into a heated argument with Kingsley. The next day Draco had been assigned to other tasks. 

Potter had become the centre of his life in the three months that had passed. He was allowed no contact with other people, aside from his mother when she paid her monthly visits to Grimmauld Place, his father (still in Azkaban), and the people he met at the ministry. However no one at the ministry was interested in knowing him better or even talking to him except to deliver angry slurs or threats or spit at him. He didn’t mind, but Draco did miss his friends. His sentence had specified that he wasn’t even allowed to have written contact with them. Having served the first quarter of his sentence, he felt like it was all a big joke at his expense.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Draco was lonely. Potter hadn’t spoken to him in days. He’d left notes for Draco, telling him to keep to his rooms, even take his meals there. Every morning someone else had waited for Draco at the ministry, delivering instructions for one humiliating task after another and never missing an opportunity to make fun of him. 

He was thirteen weeks into his sentence and nothing had changed. Draco had given up the hope of finding even one ministry employee who was inclined kindly towards him. He ate alone in the ministry cafeteria, drank his tea alone in the break room and work alone in his tiny office until he went back to Grimmauld Place every day. 

Today had been no different. Weasley had waited for Draco in front of his tiny corner office, leaning against the doorframe and smirking. Draco knew he was in trouble if Weaselby was that happy to see him. 

“Here are your instructions convict.” 

Draco took the folded piece of parchment and read it carefully.

  
_Clean all the new Auror recruits’ boots using the tools provided._   


Weasley’s grin grew so wide the top of his head was in danger of toppling off, as he held out an old toothbrush to Draco.

“Make sure you carry them out to the letter Ferret, or…” he left it hanging.

Feeling his anger boil up after months of taking abuse from Weasley, he thrust the instructions back at the man in front of him.

“It’s obvious these instructions aren’t from Potter, he’s the only one who’s allowed to delegate tasks to me. I want to speak to him.”

“Sorry Ferret, Harry isn’t in today. He’ll not be around for another week if you must know. He’s enjoying some well deserved time off with my sister. I am sure that gets your poncy knickers all in a twist considering how you’ve been all over him lately. But lucky for you, he’s not interested in the likes of you. Now, get to it!” Weasley had shouted the last two words, forcing Draco to take both the instructions and the toothbrush. He crushed Draco’s fingers around the items so hard it hurt, making unwanted tears of pain spring into Draco’s eyes. Weasley leaned close, still not letting go of Draco’s hands and whispered into his ear. “Don’t make me teach you your place Ferret.”

Furious with himself for how shaky his voice sounded Draco replied: “I am sure you’d like that Weasley, but I am really not into that, especially with poverty stricken red-haired wankers like yourself.” He tried to free himself to no avail. “Now let go of my hands!”

An expression of such intense hatred crossed Weasley’s features for a second that Draco was convinced the man would kill him then and there, consequences be damned. Weasley gave Draco’s hands another hard squeeze, making sure the artificially sharpened edges of the toothbrush’s handle bit into the tender skin of Draco’s palm before speaking again. 

“Always remember Ferret, while Harry is gone, I supervise you, if I tell him you disobeyed one of his direct orders, it won’t be me who’s going to Azkaban will it? Now say ‘I apologise for my insolence Auror Weasley’ and go do your work.”

Draco sobbed almost with relief as Weasley finally let go of his hands, immediately hiding them in the pockets of his black robes to make sure nobody else saw the blood trickling down his right hand. 

“I apologise for my insolence Auror Weasley.” Draco said, hating himself for the tremor in his voice. Weasley watched him step into his cupboard-sized office, nodded once and stalked away. 

He carefully closed his door, set the toothbrush and the instructions down on his overflowing desk, sank into his chair and only then allowed the tears to come.

Ten minutes later, after he’d cleaned himself up in the Gents as best as he could without magic and wrapped his hand with a makeshift bandage, he went to work in the Auror recruits’ locker room. It was just his luck that the recruits had been out training for a field assignment, apparently spending the entire day running up and down a muddy road. It reeked of petty revenge, but by this stage Draco was used to it and began the job in a state of numb despair.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Weasley was standing beside him, his wand pressed against his throat making it hard for Draco to breathe or swallow, his eyes filled with vicious glee.

“You aren’t going back till you’re done Ferret!”

Draco cursed his own helplessness, if he only had a wand. If only his destiny wasn’t tied to that of Potter’s good opinion of him, he’d already have torn the Weaselboy a new one. As it was, all he could do was try not to flinch at the feeling of the hard wood of Weasley’s wand pressing against his Adam’s apple and continue his work. He wasn’t even halfway done and the way things stood, he’d be here all night. Resigned to his fate he sighed once and reached for the next pair of boots when Weasley shoved him to the floor.

“Oh don’t look at me like you’ve never been on your knees in front of a man before Ferret. Afraid you’ll get dirty if you get too close to those boots? Hurry up, I haven’t got all evening to look after you.”

Draco bit down the words that wanted to escape him and would get him, if not hexed, into even more trouble, Azkaban-kind of trouble. He knelt beside the pair of muddy boots he’d been reaching for and vigorously applied the toothbrush. Behind him, Weasley sat on one of the benches that stretched along the middle of the room from one end to another. He could make out the sound of someone approaching the locker room, but didn’t look up from his task when whoever it was turned into the room.

“Ron, are you…?” The steps stopped short as the person gasped, taking in the sight before him.

“Malfoy, stop what you are doing and sit down on the bench, I need to talk to my partner.”

Draco obeyed. He’d obeyed this voice so much, it had almost become second nature to him. Never question it – if you didn’t question it, you’d be rewarded with kindness. And of late it had been the only kindness he’d known.

“What are you…?” 

“Ron, what the fuck is going on? Why isn’t Malfoy in my office indexing my case files, like I wanted?”

Draco could hear threads of their conversation drift over to him as he carefully unwrapped the bloody bandage from his hand. He wouldn’t be able to use his writing hand properly for days. He was so fucked! 

“No, I want him to continue… Harry, he’s just scum… he needs to know his place.”

“…with a fucking toothbrush no less. What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you know the kind of trouble I could get in, if this gets out? Abuse of a prisoner under my care… If Hermione ever finds out… No Ron, I am not finished. Go. Go home to your girlfriend and let me deal with this mess you’ve made. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“But Harry.”

“For fuck’s sake Ron, just go!”

Draco could hear someone shuffle out of the room, he still didn’t look up, his eyes demurely downcast even when he heard Potter sigh wearily and approach him. Suddenly all the boots around him were spotless and back in their places. Potter squatted in front of him and lifted Draco’s chin, turning his face towards Potter’s so he could look at him properly. Draco’s heart skipped a beat and then proceeded to hammer away in his chest twice as fast. The green gaze boring into his was so full of sorrow and longing it made his entire being ache. He wanted to touch the man in front of him, just reach out and make the sorrow disappear. Draco felt his fingers twitch forward slightly as his own longing transferred itself into motion, making him wince as fresh pain shot through his hands. They both looked down at his abused palms, breaking eye-contact and destroying the moment.

“Oh, for fuck’s…” Potter shook his head disbelievingly and mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘what a fucking idiot’ before taking Draco’s palms into his left hand casting a healing charm on them with his right. He sounded exasperated as he went on.

“Listen Malfoy, Ginny is waiting for me downstairs in the atrium. We have a dinner reservation and are already late. Could you just floo home? We’ll figure this out later. I’m sorry about Ron, he’s…”

“A power-hungry idiot?”

Potter laughed. “Yes, sometimes, not unlike someone else I know. Come on. Up you get!” He said, hoisting Draco up bodily.

“Feel free to have a look around the library when you get back. I am sure you’ll find something to interest you. I’ll meet you there, later, alright?”

Draco nodded and went to his office, Potter followed him and waited outside, while he fetched his cloak. 

They walked to the atrium in silence, if not companionable, it was at least the kind of silence shared by two individuals who had ceased actively hating each other.

“Ah, there you are Harry. Ron just went past me mumbling something about ‘an idiot with a hero complex’. I was just about to head upstairs to see what kept you. Oh, hello Malfoy. I’d say nice to see you, but then I am not much one for lying.”

“Good evening, Ginevra!” Draco said although it turned out to be rather pointless as she had insinuated herself between himself and Potter. She was effectively ignoring Draco and drawing Potter into a passionate kiss, as if needing to stake her claim on him.

“I’ll… I’ll just head home then.” He said, voice trailing off, even though no one was paying attention. Shortly before he vanished in the floo, he could see Potter’s dazed look when Ginevra broke the kiss.

For the first time since he could remember, Draco stumbled and almost fell as he exited the floo, barely catching himself in time. He’d known Harry and Ginevra were an item who in the wizarding world hadn’t? But to see it so plainly in front of him shouldn’t have been such a surprise, nor should it have hurt as much as it did. Despite the evidence to the contrary, Draco had assumed that he was as much the centre of Potter’s world as Potter was of his. 

The fact that he couldn’t have Potter, made Draco want him all the more. This need for Potter was not normal or healthy, he knew. It had grown stronger over the last few months with Potter being constantly around him. Taking care of him, where he himself couldn’t, protecting him at work and generally being much less of a prick than Draco was used to.

Ignoring what he’d been told, Draco went to his room, took a quick shower, changed into his pyjamas and threw himself onto his bed. He promised himself that he wouldn’t cry. Not over Potter, not over how lonely he was, but before he knew it, he broke the promise he’d just made.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Stars lit the patch of night sky he could make out through the windows from where he lay hunched on his bed. His face felt hot and raw where the tears had dried on his skin. At first he didn’t know what had woken him, but as he looked around, he could make out the dark shape of a figure sitting on the side of his bed, frozen in the motion of pulling the covers over Draco. 

Had somebody just been about to tuck him in? He wondered. Maybe this was a dream. There was nobody who cared enough about him to look in on him at a time like this.

“Draco, are you awake?” The figure moved and the sudden reflection of light on glass where the figure’s eyes should be told Draco who was in his room.

“Potter?” His voice sounded scratchy to his own ears and as if he hadn’t used it in a long time.

“How are your hands? Feeling any better?”

“I am alright Potter, is there anything in particular you wanted, or are you craving worthwhile company at last?”

He could hear Potter chuckle in the dark and feel him squeeze his hand through the sheets.

“I went to the library trying to find you, but you’d already gone to bed. I wanted to apologise for Ron’s behaviour, he’s having a harder time moving on than others…”

“I am sorry to hear that. Listen Potter, can’t this wait till morning? I am really exhausted.” What in Merlin’s name had made him say that? All Draco knew was that the he didn’t want Potter to go. He wanted him to stay with him, hold his hand, hold him, forever. This Potter was so unlike the one he got to see during the day, it was as if the dark of night had worn away all the sharp edges and left a kinder version of him.

“Oh, I’m sorry Draco… I’d better let you get some rest then…” Draco had never heard Potter’s voice sound so forlorn and regretted his words even more. He reached for where Potter had been a moment ago only to realise that he was already at the door, whispering ‘good night’ and closing it softly behind him.

His arm, still outstretched over the empty bed towards the door, was a dark shape against the darker shadow of the rest of the room. It was much later when he was finally able to go back to sleep.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

“So, have you guys picked out a destination for your honeymoon yet?”

“No, we don’t want to rush into things. Ginny has been asked to join the Holyhead Harpies’ training camp in Wales while the team is getting ready for next season. She’ll be gone all summer, starting next week.”

“Wow, that’s a great opportunity!”

“I think so too. I am really happy for her.”

The conversation taking place in the hall outside drifted into Draco’s office. Apparently someone had stopped Harry in the corridor, while he was on his way to check up on Draco’s progress.

“Sounds like you have it all figured out! Good luck with everything.”

“You too and send my regards to your wife and daughter!” The sound of men slapping each other on the back could be heard from the corridor, before footsteps approached and Potter appeared in the door frame.

Harry casually sat on the corner of Draco’s desk, passing him a cup of tea with ‘Aurors do it with shackles’ written on the side of it. Inhaling the delicious scent of Earl Grey, Draco hummed with pleasure. When he looked up, he could see Potter smile at him and couldn’t help but smile back.

“So, Draco, how are you getting on with this?”

“It’s alright I guess, some of these reports are pretty faded and they are hard to read in this light without a wand. Do you suppose there is any chance I could…”

“I’m afraid not. I already asked. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t even need to be here anymore, you’ve proven over the last nine months that you are ready to go back to society, but I believe the Wizengamot wants to make an example of you.”

The fact that Harry didn’t want him here hurt more than it should have. Reacting to Draco’s frown, his voice became more conciliatory as he went on.

“I’m not sure that’s necessarily a bad thing. If they decide your rehabilitation was a success you might actually end up with a job offer and financial support until you are settled in wherever it is you choose to go after this. Have you given any thought to that yet?”

“To be honest I haven’t really. I thought I might try my hand at a potions master degree by correspondence, but I’m not sure I can afford it right now.”

“So you’d stay in London then.”

“Apparently. What’s it to you?”

“Oh nothing, I was just wondering…” If Draco hadn’t known better he’d have thought there was the tiniest blush on Harry’s cheeks before the man quickly turned away.

“How about you?” Draco felt obligated to ask a question in return. “Going to become Mr. Family Man?”

“Pretty much, I guess. We haven’t really talked about it, but when Ginny gets back from training camp she’ll move in with me.” To Draco’s ears it sounded like Harry wasn’t convinced this was a good thing, so he felt compelled to follow up by stating the obvious.

“You don’t sound all that happy about it to be honest.”

“I know, I am, happy about it I mean, I just… I don’t know, it’s what I’ve always wanted, it just feels so sudden. I love Ginny, but…”

“But…?” Draco prompted. Harry appeared to feel like he’d already said too much and quickly changed the subject.

“Listen, if you need anything, just send me one of those memos I gave you, they’ll find me, no matter where, even without you having to use a wand. Ron’s waiting for me and I really don’t want a repeat of last month when he thought you’d kidnapped me to have your wicked ways with me and then stunned you. I’ll see you tonight.” His jovial attitude seemed forced but Draco didn’t get to investigate further, because Harry took the chance and – there was no other word for it – fled Draco’s presence.

Draco wrapped his hands around the ridiculous mug and enjoyed the warmth that slowly seeped into his fingers. About two months ago Harry had started to bring him a fresh cup of tea whenever he got himself one. He’d drop in for a short chat on how Draco was getting along with his workload and then saunter off towards his own office without looking back. Every time Harry left his office, Draco wished with all his being that he would just once turn around and give him a smile, like he shared with his friends and his girlfriend. But it wasn’t meant to be, he realised. Even if Harry didn’t have his entire life planned out, the tracks it was supposed to run on were already laid and, no matter what anyone else might want him to do, Harry would get where he was going in the end.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Ginevra had been gone for almost two weeks and Draco was spending more time with Harry than ever before. Harry had taken it into his head that Draco was too pale and needed to be out in the sunshine more. He’d taken two weeks off work and insisted he needed Draco’s help in cleaning out Grimmauld Place’s back garden and reclaiming the overgrown area from nature. Manual labour had never been particularly appealing to Draco, but he had to give it to Harry that being outside in the sunshine working with plants, nurturing new life and giving shape to chaos was cathartic.

He was currently up to his elbows in dirt as he planted lavender beside a rose bush they had just uncovered. The sweet scent of roses and lavender wafted over him as he worked in the warmth of the afternoon sunlight. There was nowhere else he’d have rather been.

“Look Draco, I think I found another one!” Harry shouted from behind an unidentified shrubbery. Mrs. Black it would appear had had quite the extensive rose garden, before she died. Without anyone to care for it, nature had reclaimed the meticulously neat flowerbeds and turned the garden into a jungle.

“I’ll be right over. I’m almost done.” Draco carefully spread some more dirt across the roots of the freshly planted lavender and gently firmed it down with slow even movements of his hands. When he was finished, he got up, carefully brushed the earth from his fingers, patted the dust of his trousers and went looking for Harry.

When he finally found him, only the bottom half of him was visible, where it was sticking out of a huge rose bush, making it appear as if the plant was attempting to devour him whole.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

The tousled dark head reappeared wearing a smile so ecstatic that Draco briefly wondered whether Harry had found some kind of special herbs instead of another rose bush. Harry held up the stalk of the single most perfect rose blossom Draco had ever seen and handed it to him.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Draco brought the flower to his nose and felt the soft petals tickle his lips as he inhaled. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

“There’s one good thing you can say about Mrs. Black, she had impeccable taste in choosing her roses.” He inhaled once more and then tried to hand the rose back to Harry.

“No, Draco, you keep it. You deserve it.” Harry smiled and then took out his wand and cast a quick stasis charm on it. “So it’ll stay fresh longer.”

Draco blushed furiously.

“I… thank you!”

Harry just nodded happily and handed him the secateurs.

“I’ll put it in a vase for you. I’m going inside anyway; do you want me to get you something to drink?” Harry couldn’t be this oblivious. There was no way he didn’t know what kind of effect thoughtless gestures like this were having on Draco.

“Thanks… I… no thanks, I’m alright.”

“Okay.” Harry plucked the rose from Draco’s trembling fingers and walked up what they’d already cleaned of the garden path towards the house, humming happily.

_Calm down Draco, just calm down, he’s just being nice; he doesn’t feel that way about you._ His usual mantra wasn’t working and he had to force himself to not longingly stare after the man walking away from him yet again.

He carefully lowered himself into the grass beneath the rose bush, settling on his haunches and resting his hands on his knees. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and let the glorious scent of the blossoms wash over him. 

Draco imagined what his life could have been like, if he’d made different choices, maybe all his days would have been like today. Maybe there would have been more than one-sided love for him and just maybe there would have been someone who cared for him as deeply as he had come to care about a certain green-eyed Auror of his acquaintance.

A warm gust of wind brushed through the plants around him and made the leaves rustle. He felt something brush his cheek, probably a rose petal that had fallen from one of the upper branches. His eyes still closed, he reached up carelessly to brush it away and encountered the solid flesh of a hand against his cheek. Draco’s eyes flew open in surprise and he stared up at Harry.

“What…?”

“There was a smudge… on your cheek…” Harry’s voice trailed off and he tried to pull his hand away, but Draco wouldn’t let him, not now.

It was as if the world had fallen away, narrowing reality to nothing but the feeling of Harry’s hand against his skin. He barely noticed the heat of the afternoon sun on his face and even the scent of the roses and the sound of the wind seemed subdued as if somebody had muted the world outside of the space they shared. He gazed into Harry’s eyes and could feel him tremble. This was the first time they had touched since the incident in the recruits’ locker room months earlier and the intensity of it was almost overwhelming.

Harry’s entire body was shaking and his eyes filled with unnamed emotion. He slowly leant closer.

“Draco… I…”

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Draco said, pressing his face into Harry’s palm. “Harry, it’s okay.”

A choked cry escaped the Harry and suddenly Harry was kissing him. Strong hands cradled Draco’s face as soft warm lips covered his own. The kiss was a mix of tenderness and desperation and Draco lost himself in it. Months of carefully suppressed longing rushed to the surface and he kissed back with abandon. His arms wrapped themselves around Harry’s neck, holding him close.

Draco pulled Harry down with him to lie on the soft grass beneath the roses. The wind showered them with rose petals, but neither of them noticed.

“I want you so much.” Harry almost sobbed and Draco held him close, pressing gentle kisses into every part of his face that he could reach. Overwhelmed by his own emotions, Draco couldn’t bear looking into those confused eyes any longer. He pressed Harry’s face into the crook of his neck, while he tried to calm down his own panting gasps for air. Harry was trembling so much that Draco feared he might shake himself apart. 

Draco’s hand found the soft hair at the base of Harry’s neck and slowly began sliding through it, drawing gentle soothing patterns there, hoping it would calm him down and let the shaking subside. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought that Harry was terrified.

They lay there for a long time, Harry breathing into Draco’s neck, clinging to his thin frame and Draco alternately holding him, gently rubbing slow circles into Harry’s back and whispering nonsense into the mop of hair that smelled of earth and roses.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Draco could hear the busy chatter of birds the first time he woke. The steely cold light of an early morning was falling through the curtains, making him involuntary draw the covers tighter around himself and the other occupant of his bed. The wind carried the scent of elderflowers in through the open window, pleasing his nostrils. The feeling of a warm body snuggled closely against his own was reason enough to stay right where he was, he decided and with a happy smile drifted back into a light sleep.

Something was tickling his nose, he tried to brush whatever it was away, not quite awake enough to investigate. He could hear an amused chuckle and the tickling sensation returned almost immediately.

He opened his eyes to a bright and bleary world, blinking rapidly a few times waiting for it to come back into focus.

“So, you are finally awake then.”

He’s here, he’s really here in my bed, Draco thought. It hadn’t been a dream, none of it had. Here he was, lying on his back, staring up at his ceiling with a smiling Harry Potter bending over him, twirling an elderflower between his index finger and thumb, tickling Draco’s nose. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“It would appear so.”

“Do you always sleep with the windows open?”

“Not usually, why?” Draco asked, curious where Harry was going with this.

“I was just wondering, because absolutely everything is covered in elderflowers, I think the wind must have carried them in here while we were sleeping.”

Draco sat up to investigate and surely there they were, hundreds of delicate elderflowers were spread across the wooden floor and the dark sheets like stars across a clear night sky. 

Feeling suddenly shy he started to get up and mumbled: “I’ll clean them up right away, let me just go fetch a broom.”

Draco was surprised when strong arms wrapped themselves around him from behind preventing him from leaving the bed. Warm lips pressed against his neck and then followed its line until they reached the shell of his ear.

“I don’t think so. You are not going anywhere Draco Malfoy, not before things have got far messier.”

The whispered words and their promise made Draco shiver with barely contained arousal. He hadn’t dared to hope for Harry to even be willing to be friends with him and now the man was in his bed, his hands skating lightly across the naked skin of Draco’s chest occasionally tweaking a nipple and exploring every square inch of skin they could reach. He felt himself arch into each caress. His throat was exposed to the delicious ministrations of Harry’s lips and tongue, while the back of his neck rested against Harry’s left shoulder.

Draco guided Harry’s mouth to his. His heart fluttered in his chest when their lips touched. It was everything their kiss in the garden had been the day before and at the same time it was so much more. Both of them were panting when it ended and Draco could clearly feel Harry’s erection pressing snugly against his lower back.

Harry’s hands began to explore with a single-minded purpose, his left hand caressing Draco’s nipples until they were hard nubs, while his right hand cupped Draco’s erection through his pyjama bottoms.

Draco moaned his approval into Harry’s mouth as his lips were claimed in a fierce kiss once more. His lips felt puffy and swollen, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Harry’s hand began kneading and stroking the hard length through the thin fabric that was soon stained with the first drops of pre-come. There was nothing tentative about the motion which made Draco wonder who Harry had been with before him. An irrational jealousy flared inside Draco and he kissed back almost angrily. He chased Harry’s tongue back into his mouth intent on making him forget any other person he might have kissed before. 

If the position they were in hadn’t been as awkward, Draco was sure he’d have left possessive marks all over Harry’s skin, staking his claim on him. As if Draco’s renewed vigour in their activities had encouraged Harry, he became bolder. Harry slid his hand past the waistband of Draco’s pyjama bottoms, following the trail of hair that led from his navel downward and wrapped it around Draco’s by now constantly leaking erection.

Draco’s breath hitched and his heart raced as Harry’s sinful hand began to stroke him. With every agonisingly slow stroke he could feel himself getting closer to completion. He had wanked to the thought of having Harry’s hands on him, worshipping his body but the reality was so much better than his fantasies. Harry’s strong left arm now pressed Draco against his chest, trapping him there, while his right hand made Draco moan and whimper into his open mouth. 

Harry broke their kiss and nibbled on Draco’s earlobe before whispering to him, making him gasp involuntarily. Draco could feel delicious tremors run through his entire body.

“I’ve wanted to touch you, suck you, fuck you, bring you off for months now. I never thought you’d let me.” This statement was followed by a firm stroke on his cock, making Draco whimper.

“I’ve dreamt of mapping your body with my tongue, of spreading you open, tasting you, rimming you until you begged me to fuck you. I’ve wanted to see you arch beneath my touch like you’re doing now, wanted to hear the catch in your voice as you get closer and closer, hear you scream my name as you came…”

“Harry… please!” Another moan escaped Draco as the hand on his prick sped up. His hips pushed up into each downward stroke and he couldn’t hold back the gasps and whimpers that fell from his lips. This was what he’d wanted, what he’d needed and coveted for months – this strong confident Harry taking control. Draco knew that he was completely at his mercy and didn’t regret it for a moment.

Recapturing the lips that were spilling filthy secrets with his own, Draco completely surrendered himself to Harry. Draco came with a moan sounding suspiciously like his lover’s name, which was quickly swallowed by Harry’s greedy kisses.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

“Look Harry, a shooting star!”

“Did you make a wish?”

“And what if I did? I can’t tell anyone or it won’t come true.” 

Harry punched Draco playfully on the shoulder. They were sitting on a couple of deckchairs Harry had purchased that very day for the new teak sun terrace that now graced the space previously occupied by the backyard. The only light came from several guttering torches and a few floating candles.

Draco reached for his glass of red wine and carefully brought it to his lips, savouring the rich taste and revelling in the delicious warmth of this starlit summer night. Life couldn’t have been more perfect. What a terrifying thought.

Suddenly Harry bolted upright, startling Draco, who almost spilled his wine.

“You know what we should do?” Harry’s voice sounded excited as he spoke.

“What Harry?”

Harry leaned in for a quick kiss and whispered against Draco’s lips, “I love it when you say my name!” Draco smiled and kissed him in return.

“We should go and find it!”

“Find what?” Draco said, sounding dazed. He could see Harry smile fondly at him. 

“The shooting star of course! Come on, I’ll fetch my broom.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea…” Draco said, but Harry had already rushed off.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Draco was seated behind Harry, clinging to his laughing form like he had done in the Room of Requirement, but this was so much better. Not a single cloud marred the perfect night sky. Above them the stars twinkled and below them the lights of London glittered as if both were trying to outshine each other. It almost seemed like the earth below them was merely a reflection of the astronomic wonders above. If it hadn’t been for the gentle pull of gravity, one might not have been able to tell where earth ended and heaven began.

The wind tousled their hair and made Draco press himself tighter into the warm body in front of him. Harry flew a quick summersault and whooped with joy. This Harry, with his ridiculous hair sticking up in all directions, a wicked daredevil, never sticking to the rules, was the one he’d so desperately admired and envied and now he was his. Being with him made Draco feel alive for the first time in months and it made him love Harry all the more. 

Dawn was already tinting the sky a soft orange by the time they touched down in front of Grimmauld Place. Their faces were red from the wind and their spirits still high with exhilaration. Harry waited till Draco had got off the broom, and then grabbed it with one hand, taking Draco’s in his other and leading him back into the house. After Harry unceremoniously dumped his Firebolt into a corner of the kitchen, Draco let himself be lead into his room. 

He wasn’t surprised when Harry kissed him again, full of tenderness. 

They took their time undressing each other and finally fell into bed. Their lovemaking was tender and slow, both of them mapping each other’s body with care and committing every piece of skin revealed, every word uttered and every whimper and moan to memory. Sated they finally curled up beside each other, neither wanting to spend the rest of the night alone. 

It wasn’t long before soft breathing was the only sound heard in the room as the first rays of yellow sunlight carefully felt their way around the room, finally coming to rest on two figures half covered by blankets, holding each other in a tender embrace.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

It was past noon when Draco woke and he should have been back at work, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to care. He stretched his long limbs, enjoying the feeling of every little twinge that served as a reminder to the activities of the night before.

He slid out of bed, his feet involuntarily shrinking back from the cold floor until Draco realised that someone had cast a heating charm on the cold dark wood not too long ago. Feeling grateful to Harry for taking such care, he tottered into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water to chase the weariness away.

Draco wrapped himself in Harry’s dressing gown, since many of his clothes and possessions were still at Malfoy Manor. He pressed the soft fabric to his face and inhaled the scent clinging to it.

Finally he made his way downstairs, following the scent of fresh fried bacon and coffee that was drifting up from the kitchen. _Harry is making me breakfast_ , he thought happily. Smiling brightly he stepped into the room. His mind was already filled with thoughts of wrapping his arms around Harry, claiming what was his and ending up making love to him on the kitchen table, like they had so many times in his fantasies.

The sight that met his eyes made his steps falter and then stop dead. Harry was sitting at the table, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee and Ginevra was standing at the stove, just replacing the pan she’d used to fry the bacon and eggs that were now steaming on Harry’s plate.

“Good morning Draco.” Harry said pleasantly beckoning him over. “Come on, have a seat and have breakfast with us.”

When she heard his name, Ginevra spun around and shot an angry glare at Draco, as if he didn’t deserve to be there. He supposed he didn’t really. When she noticed his attire, the sneer on her face became disdainful. Draco would have given every Knut in his impounded vault to be anywhere else.  
The silence stretched between the three of them and the situation became more awkward with every moment that passed.

“I…I’ll just go and get changed. It’s a bit chilly like this. I’ll be right back,” he lied, and quickly stepped out into the hall, closing the kitchen door behind him. Pressing his back into the wall beside the door, his heart pounding away in his chest, he tried to hear what was being said.

“What are you looking at me like that for Gin?” Harry’s voice sounded slightly strained as if he was trying to keep his temper under control. His statement was followed by a long pause, until finally Ginevra decided to reply.

“So, you’re on first name terms now, are you? And wasn’t that your dressing gown he was wearing?”

“What’s that got to do with anything? He’s been living at my place and working with me every day for over nine months. It would be weird if we weren’t on first name terms. Also, all of his stuff is still impounded and locked up, of course he gets to use my dressing gown. It’s not like he can go out and buy a new one himself, is it? Why has this become a problem all of a sudden? You were perfectly aware of the situation when they made me his custodian. Besides, I am not asking you about who you’re on first name terms with either, am I?”

“Well, maybe you should!” Her tone was challenging.

Harry’s sigh sounded annoyed, even to Draco’s ears.

“Look, Gin, I’m not going to argue with you about this. I’ll call him whatever I like and frankly I don’t care whether you are happy with that or not. Now, let’s just enjoy the day, the way we agreed we would and stop fighting, alright?”

Her reply was inaudible, but soon after Draco could hear the sound of what he assumed were whispered endearments followed by what he knew to be the sound of kisses. His heart in shreds and unable to bear it any longer, he fled to his room.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

The lengthening shadows were shrouding the rose Harry had given him in darkness. The petals were now the colour of blood, twisting the symbol of hope and love into something darker, something dangerous. It loomed there over his bed, the long fingers of the shadow it was casting creeping towards him threateningly across the bedding.

He felt like something inside him had broken. Draco couldn’t seem to make himself get up and leave the room or even change into something else. He just lay there on his bed, staring up at the dark ceiling trying to think of anything but what he’d witnessed downstairs. 

He’d been mistaken about Harry’s feelings for him. Then again, how could he have been, after what had happened between them, after what Harry had shared of himself? Why would he do that if he didn’t feel anything for Draco? Maybe he’d just been convenient. Maybe he’d just been the temporary replacement for Ginevra while she was out of town. 

His eyes fell on the rose on his bedside table again, still in bloom under the stasis charm Harry had cast. He was suddenly overcome with the urge to destroy it, to tear every single petal off and crush them all. Draco reached towards the rose but when his fingers touched the soft lush petals he found he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Defeated his hand dropped onto the covers, coming to rest exactly where Harry’s sleeping form had warmed them only a few hours ago. It felt like it had happened a lifetime ago.

In the end it was hunger that drove him downstairs to the kitchen. Night had already fallen outside and the first stars had appeared. No candles were lit in room when he arrived and he carefully crept inside, not knowing what to expect, but anticipating the worst. The last thing he needed to see was evidence of Potter’s newfound interest in his girlfriend, not with the wound still raw.

There on the table was a plate of pasta the shimmering globe of a stasis charm covering it. Beside the plate lay a note addressed to him. Unfolding the paper revealed a short message written in Harry’s untidy scrawl.

>   
> 
> 
> _Draco,_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _I’ve left some pasta out for you, because I thought you might be hungry after going back to bed. Last night was kind of late and I understand your need to recuperate. Gin and I are going out to have dinner in a bit and will be back later. Enjoy your food._  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Cheers,_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Harry_  
> 

Despite his stomach tying itself in knots over the fact that his Harry was out with Ginevra, he sat down and reached for the pasta. He was starving. The stasis charm fell away when he touched it, releasing the cloud of steam it had contained, in one quickly rising cloud of vapour, looking much like a djinn exiting its bottle.

The noodles tasted surprisingly good and Draco could actually hear his stomach grumble in approval. Having warm food in his belly made him instantly feel better. So what if Harry was out to dinner with the Weasley girl, it didn’t have to mean anything. Maybe he’d just gone out with her to let her down gently. Yes, that was the kind of thing Harry would do. Having finally come to a decision Draco began to think of ways he could make Harry forget all about anyone but him, once he’d returned. There were still many exciting things he wanted to try and he was sure his lover would be up for them.

Draco carried his plate and cutlery to the sink. Harry would spell them clean when he got back, he didn’t need Draco to actually do the dishes the Muggle way. His heart sped up as he heard the key in the front door. He rushed towards the kitchen door, about to make his way into the hall to welcome Harry, when he heard the sound of suppressed laughter as somebody drunkenly fumbled with the keys and failed to unlock the door.

Draco quickly extinguished the light and hid in the shadow behind the door, his face pressed firmly against the small gap between door and frame to try and see what was happening outside in the hall.

“Bugger it!” The words were muffled by the heavy oak door.

Somebody – probably Harry – must have cast a spell, because the front door flew open with a bang, revealing two figures almost collapsing in helpless bouts of giggles.

“Shhhhhh, must be quiet! Don’t want to wake the house!” Harry said with the kind of stage whisper only completely drunk people considered to be quiet.

“I’m quite sure it’s too late for that Harry. Malfoy could probably have heard it in his room if this was Hogwarts and he was down in the dungeon where he belongs!”

“Don’t call him that!” Harry slurred, making Draco smile despite the deep sense of disappointment he felt when he realised who Harry’s companion was.

“What is it about _Draco_ that you have to talk about him all the time?” She said his name like it was an insult. “I thought this evening was supposed to be just about the two of us.”

“He’s m’friend! I like talking about him, he’s fun!” Harry replied without much conviction.

“Oh come on, you silly drunkard. Let’s get you to bed, before you spout even more nonsense!”

Harry’s reply of “’s not nonsense” was silenced when Ginevra pressed her lips against his, kissing him into submission, not unlike Harry had done with Draco only a few days ago. When she finally broke the kiss, he looked dazed and she dragged an entirely unresisting Harry after her up the stairs. Draco didn’t need much imagination to figure out what was about to happen.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the sound of exaggerated moans – probably for his benefit as Ginevra probably thought he was in his room upstairs – drifted down to him. He’d known the walls in Grimmauld Place were paper thin since Harry had had a cold last winter and spent most nights either coughing or snoring as if he was trying to shake the house down. Apparently, so did she.

Draco needed to get away, out of the stifling confinement of this house, away from Harry and that woman. He felt his throat tighten and desperately tried to keep his sobs down. The Harry he’d come to know wouldn’t do this to him, would he?

Carefully, to avoid discovery, he crept along the hallway, grabbed his cloak and snuck out the front door. He would go for a walk and stay out all night. How was he supposed to sleep in the same house as them? But when he reached the boundaries of the property, he found his way barred by an invisible wall. 

In the recent months he’d almost forgotten the terms and restrictions of his sentence. He wasn’t allowed to leave the premises of Grimmauld Place unless he was with Harry or he was going to work. They’d cast a spell on him, making it impossible for him to ride a broom without Harry present and since he didn’t have a wand apparition was out of the question full stop. 

Draco was trapped. When the realisation hit him, nothing could hold back his tears, and they ran down his cheeks warm and silent. Draco felt an overwhelming reluctance to go back into the house, where he’d be forced to witness everything he held dear being destroyed. He just couldn’t go back inside, but he didn’t have a choice, he couldn’t very well sleep on the steps in front of the door. People would see and think he was a dosser and if the hag found him, as she left in the morning, she’d know she’d won. 

_No_ , his inner voice piped up, he wouldn’t give that bitch the satisfaction! He would sleep on one of the deck chairs in the back garden he decided, at least the windows were charmed to keep noise out, which had the added side-effect that noise was also kept in. Pressing his hands to his ears, he determinedly stepped back into the house and quickly marched across the hall and onwards to step onto the terrace only a minute later. The only sound he could hear now was that of the bustling city around him. A few magical fireflies lit up all over the garden, giving the impression that Draco had just emerged in some fairy realm. The entire situation felt distressingly surreal and he decided to take a quick turn through the garden to calm his nerves.

The grass was cold and soft beneath his feet. Draco had left his shoes at the edge of the patio and was enjoying how the blades of grass tickled his toes despite himself. The grass under his feet was something tangible, something real, his anchor when everything else made him feel adrift. 

Draco only noticed where his feet had carried him, when one of the branches of the large rose bush he’d failed to make out in the dark smacked him squarely in the face, scattering petals everywhere, its thorns leaving what felt like deep gouges in the tender skin of his cheek. 

Cursing he brought his hand up to his face trying to determine whether the thorns had actually broken the skin, only to feel warm blood against his fingers. If only he had his wand, he could heal his face and light the way back. He cursed himself this time for not bringing a source of light with him.

Defeated, Draco sank down beside the rose bush, in the exact same spot where Harry had kissed him for the first time. He carefully ran his hand up the stem of the plant as if to say ‘hello’. A magical firefly lit up mere inches from his hand almost as if the universe was trying to show him that it acknowledged his presence and pain. 

Somehow everything had gone wrong far quicker than anyone, least of all him, could have anticipated. He’d known that it had been a bad idea to give in to his attraction to the Saviour of the Wizarding World, but he just couldn’t help himself – Not when he had been allowed to see the desperation and the need that was driving Harry every waking moment. He’d been allowed a peek at the inner vulnerability and loneliness lurking just under the cover of the cool detachment he presented to the world at large. Who could have resisted being part of something so important? Draco hadn’t been able to and was now paying the price.

His eyes slowly drifted shut as the exhaustion of the day’s ordeal caught up with him. He’d rest for just a short while and then go back to the patio. He had to sneak back into the house before anyone noticed. Draco couldn’t remember why that was important as sleep eventually claimed him.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

When Draco woke, he didn’t know where he was. Somehow he’d expected to feel stiff and cold, but he felt neither of those things. He felt warm and cared for and if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought there was currently a warm body snuggled against him. Draco analysed the information his body was sending him and realised that there really was somebody spooning him, an arm possessively draped over Draco’s hip and breathing warmly onto his neck. It had just been a nightmare. The whole thing about Ginevra coming back and destroying what he had with Harry had been nothing but a nightmare. Relieved beyond words, Draco slowly turned around in the embrace and pulled Harry closer to his chest. He pressed a quick kiss to the crown of Harry’s head, smiling as the characteristically tousled hair tickled his nose.

“You’re still here with me,” he whispered, not able to believe his luck.

“Hmmm?” Was all the reply he got, before Harry snuggled closer. “’S cold,” he stated as if that needed explaining. 

Early morning air was always colder, but it would warm up during the day, smelling of fresh flowers and something uniquely summer. Draco pulled the covers tighter around them with his free hand, closing his eyes once more revelling in the feeling of the warm body pressed tightly against his own.

He’d almost dozed off, when Harry mumbled something into his chest.

“Of course I’m still here. Didn’t want to sleep alone, ‘s too bloody cold. Gin went back to Wales hours ago!”

Wales? Draco couldn’t breathe. It was all true. It hadn’t been a nightmare, it had all really happened. But then what was Harry doing in his bed? Was he just some convenient plaything to the man? Or had last night been a farewell shag? The questions chased each other around in his mind as inside his heart turned to ice. His arms were still tightly curled around the man in his bed, but he couldn’t feel them anymore. Nothing made sense, he felt adrift in a sea of confusion and there was nobody he could turn to for advice. What was he supposed to do?

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Somehow he must have fallen asleep despite his paralysing fear, because the next thing he noticed were fingers tracing the line of his jaw, running across his eyebrows and coming to rest on his lips. 

“It’s impossible…” Somebody whispered, stroking Draco’s lower lip with his middle finger.

He opened his eyes to Harry bending over him, looking down almost reverently. The finger caressing him immediately disappeared.

“What’s impossible?” he asked smiling.

“I… how bea-… that you aren’t up and about already, breakfast is waiting for you in the kitchen you lazy bugger! We have plans for today!” Draco was amazed at the emotional journey conveyed through Harry’s voice alone. From surprise to insecurity to joviality, there was something underneath all this, but taking in the desperate look in Harry’s eyes he decided to let it go.

“Alright, alright, I’m awake now.” The huge yawn following that very statement belied its contents. “Or well, getting there.”

Draco climbed out from under the covers and swung his legs out of the bed. He couldn’t help but smile when his feet encountered the yet again heated floorboards. Harry really did look out for him. 

Another stretch and yawn later, all sense of anxiousness had vanished from Harry’s face and Draco received a quick swat to his backside with the tea towel that had been draped over Harry’s shoulder, before he was chased into the ensuite bathroom.

Laughing so hard it hurt, he tried to close the door in Harry’s face to ensure at least a modicum of privacy, but the man wouldn’t have any of it and pursued Draco into the small white-tiled room. Draco felt himself pressed against the sink, Harry’s hands roaming all over his body, while his own tangled in dark hair that was softer to the touch then it looked, pulling Harry into a heated kiss. He could feel the stress and anxiety from the night before melt away. The man in his arms definitely was his, Draco decided as he felt Harry surrendering himself entirely to him.

To test his theory, he broke the kiss and pulled away, or rather, he tried to and Harry followed him so quickly in his desperate attempt to continue the kiss that the experiment failed, proving his theory correct.

After Merlin knew how long, Draco managed to break the kiss. His entire body was shaking with need.

“Harry…” he whispered. Looking up into his eyes, Draco could see the same need mirrored there. He didn’t resist when Harry spun him around and pressed himself against the length of his back, his arousal obvious even through the two layers of clothes.

Harry ran his hands up Draco’s bare chest, rubbing his nipples until they became hard nubs, making him shiver. He held Draco’s gaze through their reflection as he leaned in closer, licking a line up Draco’s neck and breathing hotly into his ear.

“I love how completely debauched you look, with your red lips that just beg to be kissed.” Draco was pulled upright close to Harry’s chest and his lips were yet again captured for a few short, biting kisses.

“Brace yourself on the sink.” Harry’s voice was husky. His hands were trailing up Draco’s still pyjama clad thighs encouraging him to spread his legs further. A moan escaped him and he pressed his eyes tightly shut as the by now familiar feeling of Harry’s hand stroking his prick overwhelmed him.

“Open your eyes! I want you to see what a pretty picture you make, shaking with need, waiting for what I am going to do to you next.” Harry’s low commanding voice let shivers run up and down his spine and unable to disobey, he opened his eyes, taking in his appearance. His hair was a complete mess, his pupils were blown wide with lust and his lips were puffy and wet with their shared saliva. His tongue darted out to taste it once more, causing Harry to moan at the sight.

Suddenly his pyjama bottoms were jerked down and he could now see the head of his dripping, jutting erection appear and disappear through the tight circle of Harry’s hand. It was almost more than he could take. His breath came in short panting gasps, catching in his throat a little more with every stroke.

When he was almost ready to come, Harry let go, leaving him on the brink. The stare Draco was subjected to made him tremble with its intensity. He was completely at Harry’s mercy and he loved it. Harry grinned wickedly for a second and Draco knew something deliciously indecent was about to happen. His expectations weren’t to be disappointed.

He didn’t have to mourn the loss of the warm hand for very long. Harry was now kissing his way down Draco’s spine, tracing every rib and ridge with his fingers, lips and tongue. Draco was mortified to hear himself whimper with need when Harry spread his cheeks and ran his tongue along his crack from his scrotum over his pucker to where his lower back met his buttocks. Draco’s eyes seemed to have grown impossibly wide and his mouth stood open in shock. The feeling was incredible and as if emboldened by the noises Draco was making, Harry did it again and again. He was now lapping at Draco’s pucker in broad swiping strokes, turning him into a gibbering trembling mess. And then Harry did the unthinkable, he stiffened his tongue and pressed it past Draco’s tight opening, working him open and sucking on the furled skin while he did so.

“Oh Lord… Oh Merlin…” Oh God, he was being fucked by a tongue. It was inside him and wriggling, pulling in and out and so slick and _wrong._ It felt incredible. More moans and gibberish tumbled from his lips. Nothing could describe the sensation rushing through his body at this very moment. He was so overwhelmed that although he could see their reflection he didn’t even feel Harry’s hands digging in his skin hard enough to leave bruises. He was so close, so very close and he didn’t care how wanton he looked or sounded.

“Oh Harry, please. Harry, Harry, Harry!”

Like earlier, Harry withdrew just when Draco was hovering on the brink. Draco could see himself trembling with need, hardly able to keep himself upright as Harry righted himself behind him, wiping his saliva covered chin with his sleeve, before unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. Harry withdrew the mouth-wateringly beautiful throbbing length of his cock and began to stroke himself slowly. Draco wanted to turn around fall to his knees and taste it, but when he tried to move, Harry quickly gripped his hips and held him in place.

“Not so quick, I’m not done with you yet.”

Draco didn’t know what Harry meant at first, but then two fingers were held in front of his lips and he sucked them in laving them with his tongue, imagining they were Harry’s cock. He swirled his tongue around them, insinuating it between them and then lapped at them again open mouthed, before they were withdrawn with a growl.  
Draco moaned as he finally felt them penetrate his already loose and saliva slicked opening, working him open slowly and determinedly. A third finger was added and Draco was shaking with need again.

“Now Harry, please, I am ready, please just…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“You love my fingers in your arse, I bet I could make you come so hard your eyes would cross…” The fingers were withdrawn for a moment and then pushed back in, tearing a gasp from Draco’s lips and causing him to wantonly push his hips back for more. “…using only my hands, do you want me to make you come with my fingers, or is there something else you want?” His voice was sultry and low. He stroked his erection as if to emphasize the other options open to Draco.

Draco was unable to avert his eyes from the wanton picture he made with Harry still fully clothed behind him, working him open with his hands. Draco was trapped, held by Harry’s gaze in the mirror the entire time as he moved his fingers in and out of Draco’s tight opening.

“What do you want Draco?”

He couldn’t help himself, he knew he would beg and do anything Harry asked, if he’d only let him come. And suddenly it ceased to matter; suddenly he needed to surrender himself. And so he did, with no concern for the consequences. At this very moment, he surrendered to Harry completely, heart, body and soul.

“Please Harry, please I want you! Please, will you fuck me?” It wasn’t even a request anymore, it was a need, like the need to breathe.

The fingers were withdrawn and quickly replaced by Harry’s rigid length. Draco could feel Harry slowly pushing inside him, Harry’s sweat-slicked palms were holding on to Draco’s hips tightly. When he was fully sheathed he reached around Draco and pulled him up into a sloppy open mouthed kiss. He could feel Harry’s clothed chest flush against his own naked back. Harry pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in again. Draco screamed into Harry’s mouth as the man continued to thrust into him, hitting his prostate with every stroke. No longer able to keep upright, Draco braced himself on the sink again, watching Harry’s face as he fucked him. His mouth hung lightly open and his face was screwed up in what appeared to be concentration or pain as he sought his release in Draco’s willing flesh. All the while Harry’s hands never stilled, roaming over Draco’s skin and leaving traces of what felt like liquid fire.

Finally Harry’s hands returned to stroking his prick, with Draco alternately pushing back into Harry’s savage thrusts and pushing into the tight circle of his hand. It only took a few strokes and Draco was coming, hardly able to stifle his moans as pleasure exploded through him, beginning as a warm rush in his toes and then spreading through his entire body. He felt his stomach muscles tighten over and over as his come erupted out of him, painting the sink in front of him and covering Harry’s still stroking hand. He could feel his channel contract around the still moving length inside him and then felt Harry stiffen over him, both of his hands on Draco’s hips again and spilling his release inside Draco as he sank his teeth into Draco’s shoulder to muffle his cry of ecstasy.

They stood there for what seemed like forever, wrapped around each other, covered in sweat and panting, while their hearts still raced. Draco thought his legs would buckle under him, unable to carry both his and Harry’s weight after such a mind-blowing orgasm. Harry must have felt him tremble, because he righted himself, pulling Draco up with him and gently turning him around in his embrace. Finally looking up at his lover and seeing his face not only in reflection, he was surprised despite what had just occurred to find a feeling of devotion as intense as his own mirrored there. Harry pulled him closer and placed gentle lingering kisses all over his face and lips, before stepping back.

When Harry drew his wand Draco was expecting him to cast a cleaning charm, instead Harry gently pressed his wand against Draco’s cheek and healed the scratches from the rose bushes the night before.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do this earlier, I think it’ll leave a scar.” Harry sounded genuinely upset.

Draco stood on tiptoes and kissed the faded lightening bolt shaped scar on Harry’s forehead, cupping his face when he pulled away.

“It doesn’t matter Harry. Some scars are merely more visible than others.”

Harry closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into the palm of Draco’s hand.

“I know it’s just…”

“Shhh, it’s okay Harry. I for one am going to take a shower. Will you join me?” Draco said.

“I shouldn’t. I really need to…”

“Oh come off it.” Draco interrupted him. “Don’t you tell me you aren’t all sweaty and in desperate need of a shower. Just because I was the one naked doesn’t mean you need a shower less than me.” With that, he started unbuttoning Harry’s shirt deftly and slid it off his shoulders when the man didn’t resist. The rest of his clothes followed swiftly. Draco stepped into the shower, holding his hand out to Harry, who followed him, all hesitation gone from his demeanour.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Wrapped in fluffy warm towels, they both sat at the kitchen table, enjoying a cup of tea.

“I’m so glad I always keep hangover potion on hand.”

“Why is that?”

“I’ve no idea how much I drank last night, but it must‘ve been plenty, because I can’t remember shit!”

“Oh?” Draco said sounding non-committal.

“Yeah, the only things I do remember feel like a dream and the stuff I know for a fact is that Gin slept in the spare bedroom for some reason and that she left early this morning. Maybe it’s because I snore when I am drunk, I probably passed out the minute I got home.”

For a moment Draco couldn’t believe what he was hearing. That fucking cunt! She knew about them, she had to. She’d done this on purpose to fuck with his mind. The all-consuming hatred that boiled up inside of him at the thought of her putting Harry to bed and then going on to fake intimacy with him for the benefit of an audience, was not something that was easy to hide. He tried to calm himself and carefully set the mug down, before he squeezed it any harder, making it burst. Draco tried to focus on what was important – the fact that Harry hadn’t slept with that bint, the fact that the first thing he’d done, after seeing her out of the door had been to crawl into bed with Draco, the fact that… wait, how had he even ended up in his own bed?

“You mentioned dreams?” Draco asked.

“Yes, I dreamt I was in fairy land and I found you by a magic rose bush. You were hurt and I had to take you inside and keep you safe. That’s a very odd dream though, isn’t it? I could’ve sworn it was real too, my boots were all wet with dew when I found them this morning. Maybe I was just sleepwalking again.” Harry was rambling and Draco thought he was making it all up.

“Oh come on Harry, you were awake enough to crawl into my bed this morning. How could you think what happened in the garden was a dream?”

“You mean to tell me you actually slept in the garden last night? Why would you do that?”

“I went for a walk, it was too warm in my room and I figured a bit of fresh air would do me some good and as I cannot leave the premises without you…”

“Bloody hell! I forgot! You did eat the pasta I left out for your last night, right?”

Draco remembered eating it and then trying to leave the house. Last night had really been full of ups and downs.

“Yes, I did. So you said we had big plans for today? Maybe we should get dressed then?”

“Oh, right, yes we do! Since we have to go back to the ministry tomorrow, I wanted to ask you to help me choose some furniture for the downstairs sitting room. I’ve been meaning to give the room a major remodelling but never got around to it and unlike mine, your taste in furniture is impeccable. How about we both get dressed and meet down here again in fifteen minutes?”

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Harry had taken him out to lunch and then let himself be dragged through a dozen furniture shops, Muggle as well as wizarding ones. The furniture had been delivered later that day and seeing Harry working up a sweat while getting rid of the old furniture and replacing it with the new definitely had its merits. Draco liked to remember how Harry had prowled towards him, when he’d noticed Draco’s interest. He’d pressed him down on the freshly uncovered sofa and had, as they would both later call it, his wicked way with him.

Even now during his last week of community service, the memory still made him smile. He picked up the stamp Harry had given him and slammed it down on the top document on his desk where it landed with a satisfying thump. REJECTED was what it said now across the trainee Auror report in big red letters. Draco was certain that the only reason Harry had asked him to do this was because he knew Draco well enough to know that he enjoyed this immensely. Draco didn’t even have to read the reports, Harry had done all that already, all he had to do was slam a stamp on the ones that weren’t up to standard and that was most of them.

One of Harry’s special memos materialised in front of him, startling him just as he was about to slam the stamp down on another report. Instead the memo ended up with an ‘EJECTED’ stamped across it. After scratching at the red paint with a letter opener for a minute or two, Draco was able to make out the writing.

  


_My office, five minutes!_  


Draco’s stomach tightened in anticipation. This could mean anything. Usually Harry would come by himself and deliver his instructions. Maybe it was time for his final review… instead of worrying himself further he decided to just go over to Harry’s office and see what he wanted.

Standing in front of the door he knocked tentatively, not quite ready to face both Harry and Weasley, but to his surprise the door was flung open just far enough to allow Harry to pull him inside. Draco found himself pressed against the door from the inside by the man whose hands were already busy divesting him of his clothes.

“Ron just went out to lunch, we only have half an hour. Need you right now, beautiful!”

Draco was surprised. They’d never done anything in the office. Harry hadn’t even acknowledged Draco outside of his guardian duties. He’d always assumed it was because Harry was trying to preserve a sense of professionalism about their conduct. Apparently that didn’t matter anymore.

“We shouldn’t… somebody might come in.” Draco whispered

“We should and we will,” Harry replied, taking care of the door with a quick locking charm, before attaching his lips to Draco’s once again.

“Silencing Charm!” he managed to gasp while he was being devoured by Harry’s hungry kisses. Harry’s shoved both of his hands into Draco’s trousers massaging him through the thin fabric of his pants. He could feel himself firming up rapidly under Harry’s determined hands; apparently his body needed less time to overcome his surprise than Draco did.

Harry’s let his hands wander inside Draco’s open shirt running up and down his torso making his muscles twitch. He desperately needed to breathe but didn’t manage to break the kiss until he was already feeling dizzy. Harry was pressing his forehead against Draco’s and they were both panting.

“Merlin, Draco. You’re addictive. Do you know that?”

“Can’t say I do, however your behaviour does hint at some level of withdrawal, it’s only been what four hours since you last had your hands all over me?” Draco said, trying for nonchalance but panting so hard he completely ruined his delivery.

“Four hours too many!” Harry growled and reinitiated the kiss. 

Draco was crowded even further into the door and he didn’t mind at all. A thigh was insinuated between his and began rubbing against his erection. Apparently four hours had been too long for him as well.

“Harry!” he whimpered into Harry’s mouth between kisses. Draco was clutching the man’s shirt hard enough for the fabric to be at its tearing point. For the first time in months he couldn’t take it any longer and took charge. He pushed Harry away and kept pushing him backwards until they encountered the small ugly sofa at the back of the office. Draco pushed Harry down on it and climbed into his lap straddling him so their crotches were pressed firmly together. Harry’s hands were on Draco’s arse and he was moaning into Draco’s mouth whenever Draco moved his pelvis, causing their cocks to slide against each other through the thick fabric. 

It was nice to have some control at last. Usually it was just Harry taking charge, doing all sorts of things to him. Not that it didn’t have its merits, Draco had had quite a few spectacular orgasms that way, but if the former Gryffindor could be forward, so could he.

His hands were in Harry’s hair, tilting his head this way and that, so he could easily control their kiss and explore Harry’s mouth at will. Draco enjoyed the feeling of Harry’s hands on his buttocks, where they’d slid into his trousers and pants, kneading and pinching and pulling their crotches even closer together. Their shared breath left their bodies in ragged gasps and Draco could tell that Harry was close. Reaching behind him he removed Harry’s hands from his pants and stood up, smiling wickedly at the disappointment he saw on Harry’s face.

“Take them off!”

“What?”

“Your trousers and pants, I want you to take them off.”

While Draco removed his own and gracefully stepped out of them, Harry scrambled off the sofa, almost toppling over when he got entangled in one of his trouser legs, because he couldn’t get them off fast enough. Apparently the man had some idea of what was going to happen next.

They were both naked from the waist down, their shirts hanging open and exposing their chests. Draco once again pushed Harry back onto the sofa and climbed back into his lap. He leant forward, his hot breath ghosting over Harry’s ear making him shiver.

“I am going to ride you until you scream,” Draco whispered, his voice raw with desire. Leaning in once more, he continued, “I need you to conjure some lube Harry, so I can prepare myself.”

Harry whimpered when he heard those words and quickly grabbed his ever present wand. He was shaking as he took Draco’s palm pointed his wand and conjured a small quantity of clear gel. 

Draco raised himself up on his knees and moved back a bit, resting the hand that contained the lube palm up on Harry’s shoulder to keep his balance and reaching behind him with the other to insert two lube covered fingers into his tight opening. He gasped and moaned as he worked himself open, fucking himself on his fingers. Draco knew exactly what he was doing – he was intentionally driving his lover crazy. Harry’s erection was leaking copious amounts of pre-come which pooled on his belly as he watched. Looking at Harry’s face, his pupils blown wide with lust and his gaze riveted on Draco’s undulating hips, a heady sense of power overcame Draco. Harry got off on watching him, he realised.

“You…ah… like watching me, don’t you?”

Harry could only nod.

“I bet I could make you come…hmmmm… just from watching me fuck myself on my…ah… fingers!” Draco was so very close himself, he had to force himself to slow down.

“Draco, please… oh please!” And finally their roles were completely reversed – Harry was begging for once, telling Draco what he needed. 

That did it for Draco – the time to tease was over. He wiped his lube covered hand negligently on the sofa and crushed their mouths together, before coating Harry’s cock with the rest of the lube and stroking slowly up and down the pulsing length.

Draco raised himself up again and positioned Harry’s cock at his entrance. He slowly lowered himself until he was fully sheathed, tearing needy moans from both of their throats. Harry’s hands settled on his hips as he began to slowly move himself up and down Harry’s length. Draco’s arms were wrapped around Harry’s neck and their lips only left each other when the need to breathe became unbearable. Finally Harry began thrusting upwards into Draco’s every downward stroke, hitting his prostate every time, causing him to break the kiss and making him arch his back and moan wantonly.

His hands were now splayed wide on Harry’s shoulders for leverage as their movements grew more savage. The constant litany of “Draco, oh Merlin, Draco, Draco, Draco,” spilling from Harry’s mouth like a prayer and turning into a chant almost did Draco’s head in. This had never happened before. 

“Draco… wonderful, beautiful, brilliant Draco… I…” and with that Draco could feel Harry pulsing inside him. 

Draco gratefully noticed that Harry kept thrusting inside of him for his benefit alone. His own erection was demanding attention and his right hand flew up and down it in swift moves as he stroked himself to completion, painting Harry’s abdomen and chest with his release.

Utterly spent, Draco slumped forward, resting his forehead on Harry’s shoulder. Harry held him tight, one hand drawing slow circles on his lower back, the other cradling his neck. Harry pressed a few slow tender kisses on Draco’s cheek and neck before pulling him even closer. This was the moment Draco felt he could look into Harry’s eyes and talk about how he felt. He slowly pulled back, cupping Harry’s beautiful face in his hands and holding his gaze.

“I love you Harry.” He’d never heard his own voice filled with such tenderness, and the delight that suddenly lit up Harry’s features as he heard those words chased away any anxiety he might have felt at taking such a risk. He was pulled tightly against Harry’s chest once more. A series of frantic kisses were scattered all over his face and lips until Harry pulled back far enough to look into Draco’s eyes once more.

“Draco, I…” a loud banging noise from the door startled them both.

“Oy, Harry, stop wanking and unlock the bloody door. My lunch break is over and I need to get back to work!”

“Oh fuck! That’s Ron!” Harry cursed.

Draco panicked and scrambled off Harry’s lap quickly getting dressed and setting his clothes right, while Harry did the same.

“I’m not sure it’d be good if he sees me here. And you should probably clean that up before you let him back in here.” Draco said pointing at the come stains on Harry’s chest. Harry grinned and cast a quick cleaning charm and flicked his wand over Draco without him having to ask for it.

“I agree. You’d better take my invisibility cloak. I’ll try to distract Ron so you can get out of here without being discovered,” Harry said, pressing the thin shimmering fabric of the cloak into his hand. When Draco turned to go, Harry pulled him close once more, holding on to the cloak and dragging Draco back in for a short, heated snog. 

“So you don’t forget to whom you belong,” He whispered against Draco’s lips, before releasing him and helping to drape the cloak over him, making sure nothing showed.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Back in his tiny office, Draco couldn’t stop running his fingers over his kiss swollen lips. For the first time in months, he was completely and utterly happy. He belonged to Harry and Harry belonged to him.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Draco stared at his tired looking reflection in the mirror. Today was the last day of his community service at the ministry and the last day of his forced stay with Harry. The Malfoy accounts had been unfrozen and the anti-apparition spell had been lifted. Even his wand had been returned to him after Harry had yet again spoken for him and praised the level of reintegration and rehabilitation he’d achieved.

His life was finally about to start. With Harry’s help he’d signed up for a correspondence potions master degree and would move back into Malfoy Manor the next day. He wouldn’t see Harry for a while and Draco already knew that he’d miss him terribly. Draco sighed with regret as he imagined climbing into his bed in Wiltshire without a warm body beside him to wrap around himself in the night. They’d shared a bed every night for over two months now and he wasn’t sure he could get used to sleeping alone again.

Draco didn’t want to go. While his every waking thought had been about getting away from Harry when he first began his sentence, it was the other way around now. They’d talked about what Draco was going to do with his life once the sentence was over and Harry had encouraged him in everything, had talked him through his anxieties and held him when hopelessness had overwhelmed him.

It was there in the bathroom, his hands clinging to the sides of the sink in front of him trying to regain his composure, that Harry found him. He was all tenderness and warmth as he wrapped his arms around Draco from behind and nuzzled his neck. Harry pressed a gentle kiss on the soft skin below Draco’s ear and caught his gaze in the mirror with a smile.

“I thought you would come and find me after your review and not hide away from the world in a ministry bathroom of all places. That doesn’t befit a Malfoy, you know?”

Draco couldn’t help but smile. As scared as he was of the path in front of him, at least he could be sure of one thing – Harry walking alongside him. He turned around in the embrace and brushed his lips across Harry’s, his heart too full of emotion to be conveyed through words alone. Their kisses were tender and without any urgency, the fact that they could be discovered at any moment completely forgotten.

Pressing his cheek into Harry’s, Draco held him close, not wanting to let go for the world, but the moment had to come to an end. Harry took a step back and took Draco’s hands in his.

“You’ll let me know when you got settled in, in Wiltshire… I know it’s not that far away, but if you’re not here, at least make sure you miss me.”

“I’ll make sure to let you know.” Smiling he leant forward and captured Harry’s lips in another kiss, pulling him closer by his hands. He sighed.

“We’d better get going Harry. I’m sure we’ll be missed otherwise.”

Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s one last time and then stepped out of the bathroom, Draco following him only a few moments later.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

The deserted bathroom was quiet for a few minutes, before two voices could be heard from the stalls.

“Weren’t that just…?”

“Malfoy and Potter? I believe so.”

“Oh my, now isn’t that interesting. I think I know someone who’d be willing to pay good money for that kind of information.”

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire  
>  2nd October 1999_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Dearest Harry,_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _I miss you. I assume you are busy with work at the ministry, as you haven’t replied to the last two letters I sent. The potions degree is still as time consuming as before, but I love it. It feels good to finally be doing something with my life again. As much as I loved spending time with you, I did miss having a goal in live besides not slipping up and landing my arse in Azkaban.  
>  The mornings grow colder with every day and I miss your warmth all around me during the nights. I only wish you didn’t have to cancel your last visit. I had quite a lot of things planned for us to do. For one I was going to show you the rose garden I started cultivating. It’s full of lavender and roses and the offshoot of our rose that I brought with me actually took and I am confident it’ll blossom next year. I never knew working with plants was so soothing, I understand why Longbottom finds it so fulfilling. It’s definitely helped me to relax after a long day of studying.  
> I think of you with every new flower I plant. I walk this part of the Manor garden every day and wish you were here with me to see it.  
> The jumper you left behind the first time you came over is starting to lose its scent and I find myself missing you more with each passing day. Please don’t make me wait to see you much longer._  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _I love you._  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Yours Draco_  
> 

He felt forlorn as he sat on the cold marble bench in the very rose garden he had written about to Harry not two days before, sitting in the very same spot he had occupied when writing to him. The cold autumn wind of early October made him shiver, but somehow he couldn’t make himself go back inside. The letter had been returned to him unopened. Something was clearly wrong. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that Harry was avoiding him.

The evening was already approaching when he made his way back towards the Manor. He passed an elder tree whose thin branches were bent down by the weight of hundreds of ripe elderberries. Draco couldn’t resist stopping and trying a few berries, their slightly bitter, heady taste exploding on his tongue as he ate. His fingers were stained with the dark purple berry juice, looking too much like blood for his comfort in the fading light. He’d spent too much time outside he realised, when he saw just how long the shadows had become.

That night in his bed, still wondering why his letter had been returned unopened, his mind dreaming up all sort of dreadful reasons Harry might be in hospital, he decided he would go to London that weekend.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

The Manor wards were set in a way that meant howlers – unless sent by people keyed into them – self-destructed on encountering them. Draco had never been more grateful for that small detail in Manor security in all his life, if he was honest. 

If he’d known how many howlers were sent after the story broke in the Prophet, he might have known what to expect when visiting Diagon Alley. As it was, he hadn’t even known that there had been a story until he saw the headline.

People’s reactions around him had varied from inquisitive to outright hateful. He’d been assaulted on two occasions, been stalked and accosted by reporters wherever he went and spit on by random witches and wizards. Draco had never been happier in his life to have his wand back, when he’d been able to cast a quick _repello_ and the spittle had flown back right into his attacker’s face. Before the wizard could retaliate, the Aurors had shown up, making inquiries on what was going on, allowing Draco to slip away.

He was watching the tumult through a dusty shop window. A couple of Aurors were questioning the assembled crowd as to what the ruckus was all about. Everyone seemed to be saying that they had just crowded around to see what all the fuss had been about and behind those people the reporters were scanning the crowd, probably to try and find out where he had disappeared to. 

Draco was just about to turn away from the window and hide further in the back of the bookshop he’d sought refuge in, when Harry appeared. The mob turned as one man and now it was Harry’s turn to be questioned, hassled and pushed. 

Draco was terrified and elated to see Harry making a beeline for the shop door, apparently thinking along the same lines as he himself had earlier. He could see Harry dismissing the Aurors outside and, if heroes did such thing, flee into the shop. The crash as the door was shut behind him and then locked and secured with spells resounded through the entire sales area. Harry was cursing as he pulled the blind in front of the glass door, shutting out the excited mob and turned the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’.

Harry still hadn’t seen him and Draco felt stunned into silence by his mere presence. He’d dreamt of this moment for weeks, and seeing Harry in person all flushed and excited, even with anger, brought home to him just how much Draco had missed him. It finally compelled him into action. He realised that he must have made a noise, because Harry turned towards him. It was obvious that it took him a minute to recognise who was hiding in the shadows behind the bookcases.

“Draco? Is that you? What are you doing here?”

“I’m hiding from the insanity out there,” he said, gesturing at the people trying to force their way inside without success. Their shouts were muffled through the glass. “Do you happen to know what that was all about? I know people have been talking about retaliation against Death Eaters being on the rise, but that out there is ridiculous. Why they’d bother you of all people about it is completely beyond me.”

Harry’s gaze was guarded as he approached. He seemed agitated and Draco had no idea how to deal with it.

“What’s going on Harry?” The lack of warmth in Harry’s eyes scared him more than he was willing to admit.

“Are you telling me you haven’t seen this?” Harry’s voice sounded angry as he summoned an old issue of the Prophet, holding it up for Draco to read.

  


**Harry Potter involved in gay sex scandal**  


  


_-The Man Who Lived in intimate relationship with sentenced Death Eater-_  


Beneath those words were two photos, one of him, shackled and looking gaunt and defiant at his trial, and one of Harry, the same picture they’d used when the headline had read “Harry Potter, youngest Auror to be employed by the Ministry”.

Draco felt like his whole world had just come crashing down around his ears. How had they known? They’d been so discreet. Not even Harry’s best friends had known. He didn’t even dare to look up at Harry for a minute as he tried to get his feelings under control.

“What… How… I…?”

“So you really didn’t know?” Harry sounded confused. “I thought…”

“I…no, how could I? We don’t read the Prophet anymore and I haven’t been in London since my case has been reviewed.”

Something between them seemed off. The silence had become awkward and Draco didn’t know where to look or how to make it alright again. He wanted to ask why Harry had returned his letter unopened, but he was scared of what the answer might be. 

All limbs were still present, he reasoned. Harry obviously either had moved house or had sent the letter back on purpose. Maybe he’d been on assignment out of the country; would an owl know how to find him there? But Harry hadn’t mentioned a trip when they’d last spoken. Then again, maybe it had been a top secret assignment or there hadn’t been enough time to let him know. 

Forcing his erratic thoughts under control, he took a step forward, in an attempt to bridge the chasm he felt opening up between them. As Draco reached out for Harry, he took a step back, colliding with a bookshelf. Draco told himself that Harry shying away from his touch didn’t sting. Unable to let it go, he stepped closer yet again, not touching yet, but crowding Harry’s personal space nonetheless.

“I know we didn’t plan to go public any time soon, but this isn’t all bad, is it? We can still fix this Harry, can’t we?” He needed Harry to say that it was all going to be okay, that he shouldn’t worry, but Harry just stood there silently. He couldn’t hold back any longer and reached for Harry, holding him tight. Harry’s form was as rigid as a statue in his embrace. Draco had to make it okay somehow. This wasn’t right. Harry was supposed to want him and shiver at his touch, not freeze like a frightened animal.

Draco cupped Harry’s face and brushed his thumbs tenderly across his cheeks. Harry’s eyes looked stormy and troubled, but Draco held his gaze, trying to convey that everything was all right through touch alone. When Harry still didn’t move or make any attempt to close the distance between them, Draco leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. Harry’s eyelids fluttered closed and Draco felt him relax fractionally. Things would be okay. Smiling he placed kisses on Harry’s brows on both closed eyelids, drawing a sigh from Harry, on the corners of his mouth and finally on the tip of his nose, before pressing his forehead against Harry’s.

“It’ll be okay Harry, we’ll get through this.”

Harry nodded without opening his eyes and his arms finally came up and wound themselves around Draco, holding him close.

“Shhh,” he soothed, going back to stroking Harry’s cheeks.

The tension drained out of the man in his arms entirely and it seemed like he clung to Draco for dear life. Seeing him relinquish the hold on himself and letting the mask of the confident saviour he presented to the world waver, if only for a second, before it was back in place convinced Draco that the man couldn’t and wouldn’t ask for what he needed. Not this time.

Bringing their lips together gently, he wasn’t surprised at the choked sob that escaped Harry before he kissed back as if his life depended on it. Draco knew he couldn’t give this up.

Just when he thought everything was all right, Harry broke the kiss and pushed him back so hard he fell to the floor. Looking up in confusion, he saw Harry’s face crunched up in despair and sorrow, his eyes wide and scared and some nameless emotion flitting through them before his mask fell back into place. Harry wiped the back of his hand across his mouth with a disgusted look, as if trying to erase a bad flavour.

“Harry, what…?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. It’s over.” Harry’s voice was calmer than it should have been under the circumstances.

Draco scrambled to get up, not believing his ears.

“Harry, what’s going on? Don’t you want this, don’t you want me?” He knew he sounded desperate and he couldn’t have cared less. He didn’t want to be without Harry and he knew he would beg if he had to. “I need you!”

“I… I don’t want you.”

Draco felt like he’d been slapped. The tumult outside the shop was getting louder and by the sound of it the crowd was preparing to break down the door.

“Draco, I … look… I just, I can’t…” The moment he spoke the door gave way and the mob of shouting people streamed in. For a minute there, Draco had almost thought he’d seen tears in Harry’s eyes as he turned away and rushed out. But there couldn’t have been.

He just stood there, eyes unseeing, as the crowd carried Harry and the shreds of his heart away with it into the pouring rain.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire  
>  10th October 1999_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Harry,_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Why won’t you talk to me? I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know why you said the things you did, but things are far from over between us. They can’t be. Is it because of that rubbish they published in the Prophet?  
>  I tried floo-calling but your floo is locked, at least to me. I can’t go to London because the reporters dog my every step. I want to hex them, but the first time I did that everyone started screaming “Death Eater Attack” and I barely got away. I’ve not dared to go back since.  
> Every day dozens of inquiries by reporters reach the Manor and I don’t know what to do about them anymore. The only thing that keeps me sane in all this mess is the thought of you back in my arms.  
> I am lonely without you.  
> The nights grow ever longer and sleep eludes me. I lie awake for hours, wondering where you are and what you are doing.  
> Whenever I look in the mirror I see the tiny scar the rose left on my cheek, it’s so small that you can only make it out if you know where to look.  
> I wish I could tell you, how much I miss you, but all I can do is write you this letter.  
> Please don’t make me beg for you to talk to me. I need you!_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Love always,_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Yours Draco_  
> 

The parchment fell from his limp fingers, sailing to the ground as if in slow motion. Draco had fretted for days about whether he’d exposed too much of himself in that letter, whether he’d come across as too needy. And now it had been returned unopened like the one before it.

The part of him that was still trapped in that horrible moment in the shop where Harry had taken Draco’s heart so freely given and crushed it, hadn’t cared. That part would throw itself at Harry’s feet, begging for another chance, begging to be let back into his life.

Maybe he’d done something to make Harry reject him. What if Harry had needed him, but he had been too busy with his studies to notice? Or had he been too clingy? 

Draco was at his wits’ end. The only way he could confront Harry about what had occurred was if he went to London. He already knew he couldn’t do it - couldn’t bear the resentment and hatred that had intensified what felt like a thousand fold. Not only was he a convicted Death Eater, but he’d also dared to lay his filthy hands on the precious saviour. Not that the public actually knew anything specific, but they had chosen to make up their own facts and punish Draco for them. He was sure that if the Manor hadn’t been so well protected by its wards and a few spells the ministry didn’t need to know about, he would have needed to take up permanent residence at St Mungo’s by now.

No, there was no way around it. He would have to come up with a plan to speak with Harry somewhere away from the public eye. His newly found hope was somewhat derailed as the crack of house-elf apparition startled him out of his reverie. 

“What is it Poxy?” Draco cringed inwardly at the name he’d given the house-elf when he was younger. He’d thought it funny at the time.

“Young Master is having a floo-call in the green drawing room.”

It was Harry! Draco was sure of it. Without another word he rushed out of his room.

“Draco, hurry up! Let me through, this is fucking uncomfortable!”

He’d have known that screech anywhere. It most definitely wasn’t Harry. His heart sank.

“Pans, long time no see. What can I do for you?” Draco drawled in an attempt to hide his disappointment and the emotions still raw under the surface.

“For one, you could bloody well let me through your floo like the gracious host you always pretend to be.”

Draco flicked his wand, unlocking the floo and asking her to come inside. A flash of green flames later Pansy stepped out of the floo, looking impeccable as always, apart from the twin stains on her trousers where she’d been kneeling in front of her fireplace. The exchange of air kisses over and done with, Draco closed the floo once more.

“Draco Malfoy! I know you’ve been back at the Manor for a month now. You could have got in touch with me you know? Your sentence was served and there’s no reason to keep old friends out in the cold!”

Draco rolled his eyes, but couldn’t suppress a smile. Apparently this was what he’d needed – nagging, outrageous, annoying, pushy Pansy!

“…I can’t believe you keyed me out of the Manor wards! I tried coming over earlier but I couldn’t get through…Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes Pans, I’ve been listening to you ramble on and on. Sometimes I wonder whether you evolved somehow and can survive with less oxygen than the rest of us. Do you ever stop to draw breath?” He laughed as she punched him in the arm.

“You insufferable git!” she yelled before embracing him impulsively. “I really missed you this past year, you know?”

Draco held her close to him, speaking softly into her black bob.

“I missed you too!”

Pansy gently disentangled herself and held Draco at arms’ length. Apparently she hadn’t expected honesty but rather his usual snark.

“All right. Whatever it is, we’ll talk about it, but first you’ll offer me tea and biscuits!”

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

They were seated at a small table facing the window and bathed in the warm light of the afternoon sun. Pansy was lounging in one of the high-backed armchairs, her long legs crossed nonchalantly. She replaced the delicate teacup on its saucer and looked at Draco, who hadn’t touched his tea.

“I see you are still pretending to be a lesbian!” Draco finally said, indicating her dark trouser suit that showcased her beautiful legs to their best advantage.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she replied smirking. “For some reason the way I dress has been considered by more than one gentleman to be a challenge. I suppose they want to convert me through the power of their manliness. Pity that in most cases their bite doesn’t live up to their bark.”

“Sad to hear that Pans.”

“Ah well, we all have our crosses to bear, I suppose… So, I heard you were involved with Potter, is that true?”

“I… no… of course not!” Draco stuttered.

“Well, I am glad about that. He might be hot, granted, but that nobility of his, ugh!” She pretended to gag. “He’d probably be a boring shag anyway, vanilla all the way. I suppose you were truly starved of decent company in the last year. I’m just glad to hear that you weren’t desperate enough to give in to the likes of Potty.”

Draco had been about to take a sip from his cup but set it down hastily as his hands started to shake uncontrollably. The cup made a clattering sound as it was reunited with the saucer. He just about managed to suppress a choked sob. Pansy, the conniving minx, caught on quicker than Draco had expected. She was more perceptive than he’d given her credit for.

“Oh dear Salazar. You were involved with him, weren’t you? Then it’s all true?! Everything Millie and Blaise told me is true?”

Draco was unable to speak; he just looked at his friend, not sure whether he wanted her to know the truth. It actually hurt to hear her speak about Harry like that. He’d come to respect the man, and even though Harry hadn’t treated him well recently, he still couldn’t make himself think ill of him.

Dropping the act of cold bitch, Pansy deposited her cup on the table, got up and squatted beside Draco, laying a gentle hand on his knee. _Damn her perceptiveness_ he thought again, barely able to keep from breaking down in front of his oldest friend.

“Draco?” Her voice was soft and concerned. “Darling, are you alright? What’s wrong? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“He… I… he broke up with me!” Draco choked out, trying very hard not to cry. Saying those words out loud brought home just how much it still hurt and how much he didn’t want them to be true.

“Oh Draco, I am so sorry dearest, what a fucking arseh-“

“Pansy, don’t!”

“I’m sorry. I truly am Draco, but if he’d known what’s good for him, he’d have held on to you! What are you going to do about it?”

Draco made an effort to calm himself down. He couldn’t meet her gaze, afraid of what she might see in his.

“I’ve sent him a couple of letters, but he just sent them back unopened. Oh God Pansy, I don’t know what to do anymore…” His voice broke.

“Shhh Draco. It’ll be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” She cradled his shaking form in her arms, rocking him back and forth. “Does he really mean that much to you?” She asked.

“He… I am just so lost without him Pansy! I don’t know what to do with myself. I need him and he won’t even speak to me!”

She brushed her thumb across his cheek tenderly, wiping away a single tear that he hadn’t been able to hold back. Pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head before moving back, she straightened up and perched on the armrest, winding her arm around Draco’s shoulder companionably.

“You really want him back then?”

“Yes.” It came out as barely a whisper.

“Alright, let’s put our heads together. I am sure between the two of us we can come up with a way. Now, give us a smile.”

Draco sneered at her for using such a platitude but found himself agreeing with her nonetheless. She laughed when she saw his face.

“Close enough I guess. I’m glad there is still something of the old Draco Malfoy left.” She winked at him.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Draco pulled his cloak tighter around his shivering frame. They’d decided he would make one last attempt to speak to Harry and that if he wouldn’t open his floo to Draco, he’d simply show up at his home pretending to have forgotten something in his room.

Which is how he found himself outside of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, not daring to knock but not quite ready to give up either. He’d been pacing up and down the street for half an hour already, the cold wind biting into his skin and sending showers of cold rain down his collar. To make sure he wouldn’t be discovered before he was ready, he’d attempted to disillusion himself.

He had never been much good with disillusion spells, he was a Malfoy after all. Draco wanted to be noticed, the fact that this wasn’t something he still wanted, didn’t seem to matter to his magic and the spell he’d cast on himself was shoddy at best.

It wasn’t long before Draco’s desire to work things out with Harry overcame his fear and he stopped his pacing. The rusty gate to the small front garden, if one could call it that, felt cold and diseased under his hand as he pushed it open. Flakes of rust stuck to his skin, he brushed them off negligently, walked up the three broken steps and reached for the door, touching the wood, but hesitating to knock. It was as if the whole house was decaying under his touch. A dark sense of dread and foreboding overwhelmed him and he shrank back from the door. He heard a noise and when he looked up, he saw a raven fly overhead, swooping down low and coming to rest on the stony Black family crest that was still above the door.

The bird was looking down at him curiously, as if he was trying to decide whether Draco was going to die soon enough to be worth its time. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought he was looking at an animagus. 

The light falling from the windows onto the small patch of dirt beside the path had seemed warm and inviting only a moment ago. Now it appeared cold and harsh. It seemed to make the shadows darker and menacing. Anything could hide in them. All of Draco’s senses screamed at him to run as fast and as far away as he possibly could. It was an effort to even raise his hand to the door again.

The door opened in front of him to reveal Harry, the candles in the hallway cast a golden halo over his head, making his hair look like the mane of a lion. Draco didn’t remember knocking, but he must have done, seeing as Harry was right there in front of him, looking at Draco and then at his hand still raised in the air in front of him.

“Is there something that you want?” Harry’s tone was cold.

“I… may I come in Harry?” Stay calm and stick with the plan he told himself, trying to not to show just how much Harry’s coldness was affecting him.

“This is isn’t a good time. I am having friends over. If there’s nothing else.” He made to close the door but was stopped short by Draco insinuating his foot between door and frame.

“Harry, what’s wrong? I really need to speak with you. Please let me in.” Draco knew he sounded dangerously like he was begging, but he couldn’t really make himself care.

Excited voices could be heard from inside and then the sound of laughter making Harry look back into the house. He appeared agitated, as if he was trying to hide something from the people inside. Draco caught on quickly, Harry didn’t want for his friends to find out that he was here. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Malfoy. Now if you’ll excuse me?” The pressure on his foot increased as Harry tried to close the door. The ‘Malfoy’ had hurt.

“Harry, come on! What the hell is going on, why won’t you talk to me? Just tell me what’s wrong so we can fix it! Is it because of what they wrote in the Prophet? Nobody cares about that, they write stupid things every day just to increase their run. You of all people should be used to that by now.” Draco was getting desperate as it became apparent that he wasn’t getting through to Harry. Or maybe he was getting through to him, but it wasn’t enough.

“Does what we have, what we feel mean so little to you that you can simply abandon it? Do I mean that little to you? Don’t throw this away Harry. I need you, and I know that you need me too. Just tell me what’s wrong. I need to know!” Draco’s voice was shaking as he spoke. He had to make Harry see reason, he just had to.

“Malfoy, I don’t know how you can think there ever was anything between us. I’m sorry if you have feelings for me, but I don’t have feelings for you. I don’t want you, nor do I think there actually is anything to throw away,” Harry said sounding as if he was trying to cut the conversation short.

“Harry, please! Please don’t do this to me. I can’t be without you, I think of you every day and I miss you so much I hurt.”

Harry’s expression shut him completely. Draco couldn’t read him and his eyes gave nothing away. This was even worse than it had been during their school days. A reaction, any reaction at this point would do, anything but this cold hard mask. Draco felt tears burning in his eyes, as he tried and failed to find what he needed in Harry’s eyes.

“I can’t let you go Harry. I just can’t, it would break my heart to see you with anyone else. Just please let me in. Let me make things right. Don’t let it end like this. Please change your mind, remember how you felt when you were with me.” 

Harry’s eyes were hard and a sneer was marring his beautiful face. “That’s all well and good Malfoy, but tell me, how could anyone break something that doesn’t exist?” Draco took a step back and gasped in shock, Harry’s words hitting him like a physical blow. 

Harry slowly closed the door in his face.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

The cold of the stone steps was biting his flesh but he didn’t even notice. The raven was still looking down on him, he knew. Draco was beyond tears, beyond anything. His eyes unseeing, his ears unhearing and, for all he knew, his broken heart unbeating.

He didn’t care that night was falling as he sat there, didn’t care that the wind picked up yet again, chilling him to the bone. It felt as if the world he inhabited had stopped revolving. The pillars at the corners of his existence had toppled down, bringing down the sky and everything outside of his pain and loss with them.

Now and then people walked past the house, but he knew they wouldn’t see him. Misery supposedly loved company, but more often than not, people chose not to see other people’s misery.

He didn’t know how long it was before Pansy showed up. Draco didn’t hear her speak to him, but she must have, because his body got up and followed her, lead by the insistent tug on one of his limbs. He walked the world like he was blind, stumbling every few steps because he seemed to have forgotten how to walk. His mind was filled with an all-consuming agony. Pansy must have slung her arm around his waist, because he wasn’t stumbling anymore.

Harry, his Harry didn’t want him, didn’t need him. He’d accused him of not having a heart and maybe it was true. Draco felt empty inside as if half of his soul was missing. If he didn’t have a heart, it was because it had stayed with Harry.

Pansy must have taken him home, because now they were standing in the same drawing room as before. She was shaking him, but it all felt like it was happening to someone else.

“…you’re going to catch your death… For fuck’s sake Draco, you’re scaring me! Talk to me! What happened…” her panicked sounding voice drifted in and out of his consciousness. She appeared to want something from him but he couldn’t for the life of him figured out what.

“Poxy! Your Master is unwell. Help me take him to his rooms!”

And suddenly he was floating. The pain had been replaced by numbness. Nothing penetrated the barriers around his mind. He looked out of his eyes as if they were a spyglass. Everything seemed unreal and far away, he could see Pansy touching his arm but he felt nothing. Curious the part of his mind that hadn’t fallen to pieces thought, _I should feel something, but there is nothing, just an all-consuming emptiness._

Draco watched his body lift its arms at the appropriate moments. He saw more than felt his friend cast a heating charm on his skin. The skin must have been ice cold, if her shrinking away from him was any indication. 

When he was clad in his pyjamas, Pansy made him walk toward his bed and lie down, before she tucked him in. He stared up at the ceiling unseeing, his mind’s eye filled with the cold gaze of the man he loved, the words “I don’t want you” and “How can anyone break something that doesn’t exist” chasing themselves around inside his head.

Pansy lay down on the covers beside him, whispering to him and stroking her hand up and down his arms soothingly. 

Her movements gradually slowed and then stopped entirely as she drifted off to sleep before he did. Draco lay awake for long after, listening to her steady breathing and terrified of what dreams this night would bring him.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

It was days before Draco even left his bed. For the first time in his life he didn’t care about his appearance. Nothing seemed to matter, nothing cheered him up, not even the expensive chocolates and cheerful conversation his friends provided.

Millie, Blaise and Pansy, who had moved into the Manor for the time being, tried their best to cheer him up. If he could be bothered, he pretended that their efforts bore fruit, but inside his feelings hadn’t changed.

On the first day of November his friends refused to leave him alone, they constantly sat with him, as if something bad had happened and they were afraid he’d do something desperate, if he found out. 

It took a lot of manoeuvring and sneaking out of some windows and into others for him to discover what had them so worried. The Prophet had done another spread on Harry, after all it was front page news when the Saviour of the Wizarding World got engaged to the love of his life. As the newspaper slid from his limp fingers, Draco wished he didn’t know. 

Draco felt the last spark of hope dying inside and finally the tears came. His friends found him soon after, huddled on the sofa, the tear-stained newspaper clutched to his chest. They tried talking to him but he only shook his head. Pansy sat down next to him, trying to pull him into a comforting hug. Draco sat on the sofa rigidly, unable to accept his friend’s comfort. The time for consolation would come later. 

“Please, just go. Just leave me alone.” Draco said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Of course they argued and talked at him for what seemed like hours, but Draco didn’t speak again. In the end they lit a fire and covered him with a blanket before they left. Although Draco had a sneaking suspicion that at least Pansy didn’t give a fuck about what he wanted and would return after the others had gone. He couldn’t even muster up the energy to care.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

The Potter-Weasley nuptials were big news throughout the wizarding world. There was no escaping it. Draco hardly left the house anymore because every single person seemed intent on reminding him about what he’d lost. He knew that his obsession with “what if I’d done things differently” was growing to an unhealthy level and wreaking havoc on his ability to concentrate. Draco had even had to take a leave of absence from his potions degree, because he couldn’t keep up with the required work anymore.

Pansy was constantly harassing him about going out to see other men, to move on. Draco tried to indulge her by pretending to listen but deep down he already knew that he wouldn’t get over Harry that easily, if at all. 

Christmas had come and gone and in his case been a solitary affair. His mother wasn’t returning to the Manor. She’d taken a townhouse in a city closer to Azkaban so she could visit Lucius whenever possible and since Draco had refused to leave the Manor, he’d had to spend Christmas Eve alone.

Pansy had come by on Christmas Day and made him observe all the traditional wizarding customs before getting him roaring drunk and taking him to London with her, encouraging him to take someone home with him. He’d let a bloke suck him off but hadn’t taken him back to the Manor. Of course he’d spent that night, like so many others, alone in his bed. The only person he wanted to share his bed with didn’t want to be with him, and if he couldn’t have Harry, he didn’t want to have anyone. He’d only been able to come earlier that night, because he’d squeezed his eyes shut just so that he could pretend it was Harry on his knees in front of him.

By February Draco had returned to his potions degree and life had returned to its regular routine. Pansy came over once or twice a week to cheer him up and tell him about yet another ‘gorgeous bloke’ she’d met who would be ‘just perfect’ for him, and every week he would humour her and then turn down her offer to introduce him. He’d gone along with her wishes the first three or four times but had declined every time after that because those meetings never seemed to work out and only brought home to him just how much he still missed Harry.

The wizarding world was definitely fickle in its attention, and Harry’s liaison with Draco seemed almost forgotten. 

Draco’s potions supplies were running low and with things as they stood, he would have to go to London himself to replenish them. Fortunately going to Diagon Alley had become a much less dreadful notion than it had been only months earlier. He considered asking Pansy to come along but when he was faced with having to call her, he realised he didn’t much feel like having company on his first foray into London since the Prophet article.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Diagon Alley was crowded with witches and wizards of all ages. Valentine’s Day was fast approaching, and everyone seemed intent on buying their presents and cards right then. Luckily not many people thought potion supplies were the perfect gift and Draco managed to enter the shop without any problems. He handed his list over to the woman behind the counter who filled a bag with small boxes and yet more bags containing all the items and ingredients he’d asked for. Except for perishable ingredients he was buying twice what he usually would so he wouldn’t have to come back to London in the near future. 

As he exited the shop, laden with several bags, he reflected that one of the reasons he didn’t want to come back was that there was always the chance of running into Harry, especially on a busy day like today. Draco turned left to head for a place where he could safely apparate and ran straight into a man attempting to push past him. Both of them ended up on the floor in a tangle of limbs and shopping bags. Draco looked up to complain and froze in shock. As if conjured by his thoughts, he’d run into Harry. Their hands touched as they tried to get up and Harry drew his hand away as if he had been burned, wiping it on his trousers with a nauseated expression, almost as if he thought, he’d catch something by touching Draco. Harry refused to meet his eye and kept brushing at his robes as if trying to remove some taint left there by his mere presence. Draco got up, collecting his shopping and glad to note that none of his ingredients had spilled or been broken during the fall.

“Harry, what the hell is…? Oh Malfoy, it’s you. I should’ve known, who else would throw themselves at my husband like that in public?” Of course, Harry wouldn’t be alone. Ginevra was slinging her filthy arm around Harry’s waist possessively as she spoke.

“Gin, just leave it. I’m only glad he didn’t spill anything on me. Let’s go, he’s not worth our time!” Harry put his arm around her shoulder and steered her away, Draco could hear her protesting until they were out of sight.

He told himself that it didn’t hurt, and for a little while he almost believed it, until he remember the look of disgust on Harry’s face as he wiped his hands. Harry had behaved as if Draco had some highly contagious disease he might catch by touching him. Was Draco so repulsive to him that Harry couldn’t even bear to touch him?

It couldn’t have been more obvious – Harry didn’t want him anymore. The man couldn’t even stand to be touched by him. When he realised that the man couldn’t even stand to be touched by him, all was lost.

Devastated Draco stood frozen in the middle of the street, being jostled and constantly bumped into by the crowd. It was a long time before he made his way into an alley and apparated home.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

In the time that passed, Draco realised that the reason why Harry couldn’t love him, must lie with him. Maybe Draco was simply unlovable if someone like Harry who loved everyone and everything didn’t love him. What hurt so much was more that his entire being had become entwined with Harry’s during the year they had spent together. Every little thing reminded him of Harry. Every touch every kiss, every look had been burned into his memory. He couldn’t even bear to look at himself in the mirror on most days, because the scar on his cheek, no thicker than a hair and only visible in a certain light, was too strong a reminder of their first kiss under the roses.

Draco had ordered the house elves to take care of the rose garden he had planted, because nothing in the world would make him enter it again. The one time he had tried, such intense emotions and memories had flooded his mind as he smelt the roses and lavender, that he had fallen to pieces. He had fled inside, locking himself in his room and drawing the curtains to shut out light and scent, vowing to never set foot into the garden again.

Draco had tried to remove any reminders of Harry from his life during the last few years, but had never been entirely successful. Once, the sunlight had fallen on one of the small sofas in the west wing, causing the dark green colour to appear the exact same hue as Harry’s eyes. He’d incinerated the family heirloom before he could stop himself.

And so it had continued. Draco had shut himself away from the world more and more with every passing month, only going out to restock his potions supplies and even then only if he was running so low improvising wasn’t an option anymore.

Today had been one of those days. It was late summer when Draco walked along Diagon Alley with hunched shoulders trying to be invisible. The Potters had made headlines again. There was a photograph of them both happily smiling and waving at a ministry function. Harry’s arm had been slung around his wife’s waist and hers had rested on what could only be a baby bump. It was another blow he hadn’t been prepared for. He’d always thought that Harry was miserable in his marriage – that he’d wake up one day and realise that he had made a mistake and that it was only Draco he wanted.

In his mind Draco had always imagined Harry coming back to him, a sad look on his face, begging Draco to take him back. Draco would spread his arms and Harry would run into them, right back where he belonged.

His legs had carried him away from wizarding London out into the streets of Muggle London. He was walking past a row of houses, some of their windows covered by drapes to keep out the sun, others thrown wide open to let in fresh air. A gust of wind made him shiver as he walked. Despite the sun and cloud-dotted blue sky, the first signs of autumn were fast approaching. The cold breeze made leaves dance around his feet as he heard an unfamiliar song from one of the open windows. A woman was singing, her voice sounding eerie and so sad it made his own heart ache for what he’d lost and yet couldn’t let go. 

_Death is no dream, and in death I am caressing you, with the last breath of my soul, I’ll be blessing you._

He rushed on, trying to escape the haunting voice and its sadness, the words too true for his own comfort.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

He woke to a soft warm breeze coming in through the window, caressing his cheek and playing with his hair like Harry used to. The wind carried the scent of elderflowers with it. Another year had gone by unnoticed, because time had ceased to matter. The bittersweet memory of their shared touches still made him sad. But for all that, he couldn’t bring himself to get up and close the window. 

Scent was as powerful a trigger of memories as ever, and he found himself plunged into unwanted yet coveted memories of their time together, making his life as it was now even more unbearable. And still, even though this longing, this bittersweet ache, was more than he could bear, it was all that was left of what they had been, and he couldn’t find it in himself to let go.

Time had softened the sharp edges of his memories, leaving behind faded moments like the much tossed about pebbles on a shoreline. Maybe he could stay there forever. Maybe, if he wished hard enough, those times would come back and be like he remembered them. 

Another year had passed, Draco had taken to getting his potion supplies by mail order so there was no reason to go to London anymore. Even Pansy had given up on trying to make him come with her. She still visited once a week, making sure he took a turn around the garden and ate at least one full meal on that day.

He’d grown rather thin, and if not for Pansy’s regular visits, his appearance would have become unkempt and ragged. She forced him to shave, she called in a hairdresser once a month and she made him get dressed properly. She’d once said that as much as she enjoyed looking at his bare chest, she wasn’t going to endure another meal with him anything but impeccably dressed.

Draco had become bitter and numb over the years, and even her pushiness that had used to amuse him so in the past barely made his lips twitch these days.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

“Draco darling, it’s me, where are you?”

He could hear her from where he sat. His heartbeat still hadn’t slowed noticeably and he had barely made it to the first landing, before he’d slipped down to the floor.

Pansy was one of the few people still keyed into his floo and still allowed to enter the Manor. Draco was scared of what would happen if she stopped showing up. She was his only regular visitor and his only connection to the outside world. At first she’d refused to bring him the things he’d asked her to, but as time passed she must have realised that nothing would make him leave the house, no matter how much he needed it and she had finally given in.

The first time Draco had realised that he was actually unable to even go out into the gardens on some days without breaking into a cold sweat, he knew he needed help, but he didn’t know whom to ask. He’d come to rely heavily on Pansy and hated it. He hated how helpless and vulnerable he had let himself become, how little of his true self was left.

“Sweetie, are you alright?” Her voice was closer now and he felt something akin to relief as he realised that she would spot him and help him soon.

He tried calling to her, but his voice was barely audible for lack of use.

“I’m sorry I had to stay away so long. Mother needed me to settle some of her affairs in Hong Kong and it took me longer than I had anticipated. Did you get my letters?”

She was almost there, he could tell. She must have spotted him on the stairs because suddenly a warm body sat down beside him, gently unclenching his hands from the banister and massaging them.

“Oh Draco, what happened? I’m sorry I stayed away for a whole month. Blaise and Millie were supposed to look in on you.”

“I…” Draco tried to force his voice to cooperate. “I didn’t want them to see me like this.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can take a turn around the garden, what do you say?”

“Okay.”

With Pansy’s help it didn’t take long for Draco to get dressed and cleaned up. They walked down the stairs together, her hand tucked in the crook of his arm, squeezing it reassuringly. The closer they came to the front door, the slower his steps became. He could feel cold sweat break out all over his skin and felt bile rise in his throat as panic threatened to overwhelm him. He started shaking uncontrollably, his steps faltering and stopping several metres from the main door.

“Pansy, I am sorry,” Draco choked out. “I can’t… I just… I can’t go outside.” His voice broke, but he kept repeating his words over and over nonetheless.

“Draco, darling, come on. We’ll just go sit in the drawing room for a bit. Don’t be scared, it’s alright.”

With a grateful nod, Draco turned away from the door. His world was becoming smaller and smaller and he no longer knew how to escape the prison he had created for himself.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

It had been over a year, since he’d last been outside in the fresh air, except for the few times he ventured out onto the balcony of his room. He missed it terribly, but the fear that overcame him whenever he tried to venture outside had become so extreme that he started breaking out in sweat at the mere thought of it. It was safer to stay inside, where nothing would hurt him. He could make potions in peace, and the supplier he’d found delivered every ingredient he could possibly need. In turn Draco sold the potions he made through the supplier’s network. 

Every bit of communication was done in writing, which Draco preferred as he tried to avoid people as much as possible. His entire life had become built around his condition. The large windows that showed the garden had been hung with drapes and the Manor’s wings had both been closed. Every piece of furniture was covered in white cloth and left to collect dust. Everything he might need had been brought to the main part of the house and the elves that remained had been ordered to send any visitors away.

Draco had forgotten why he still allowed Pansy into his house. She had probably bullied him into playing host to her every now and then, he thought, but he truly couldn’t remember. 

They were having their afternoon tea in the same drawing room Draco had told her about his feelings for Harry all those years ago. His back was to the window, because he couldn’t bear to look at the oppressive sky for more than a minute. Poxy materialised beside Pansy and tugged on her sleeve to whisper something into her ear which sounded suspiciously like “…Master…visitor that broke in…wards…can’t make him go away. Poxy is sorry Madam!”

He had given up scolding his house elves for obeying Pansy. They always pretended to be sorry, but he knew they thought they were helping him by taking orders from her. They were probably right.

“Draco, listen. You’d better let me take care of this, alright?”

He simply nodded. Pansy would know what was best for him. She’d proven time and again that she was better at taking care of him than he was, just like Harry had been.

He sipped his tea and suppressed the memories that tried to crawl to the forefront of his mind with an effortlessness that came from years of practise. The sound of raised voices drifted from the entrance hall and part of him was curious how somebody had even managed to approach the main door. After all he’d made sure the wards were stronger than ever before.

Pansy must have sent whoever it was away, because a few minutes later she returned, carrying a package and handed it over to Draco.

“This was just delivered for you.” 

“Who is it from?”

“I have no idea. Aren’t you going to open it?”

“All right, all right! You are too curious for your own good!” Draco said teasingly, easily falling back into their regular banter.

He carefully untied the pale brown thread holding the packing paper together and laid it on the table beside him. The paper revealed a leather-bound diary, it looked expensive. There was no note. The diary looked well worn and Draco expected it to be full of writing, but when he opened it there were only blank pages, hundreds of them.

“Why would anyone send me a diary?” He asked.

“I have no idea.”

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Harry was fidgety, there was no other word for it. He had been pacing up and down for over an hour, unable to calm down enough to sit down. He should have heard from him by now. It absolutely had to have worked. It had been a foolproof plan, nothing could go wrong and she had taken the book. She must have given it to him, she’d promised. Why hadn’t it worked?

He had to make him understand, make him see. How could he do that if his plan hadn’t worked?

Harry tried to sit down, but jumped up again right away, his every thought haunted by the why. Why hadn’t it worked?

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

In the beginning it had been obvious to him that Draco was trying to repay his kindness, and he’d tried to be strong, tried to be a friend to the man who wasn’t allowed contact with anyone from his past. Uprooted and alone, of course Draco had turned to the first person who’d shown him any kindness at all.

Harry was ashamed to admit that at first he hadn’t even managed to be civil to Draco. He’d still held on to their childish school-day rivalry even after it had become apparent that Draco had no interest in continuing their quarrel. Draco had tried to keep his head down and no matter what kind of humiliating task Harry came up with to force a reaction out of him, he’d never raised his voice and never risen to the bait. 

It had taken Harry too long to realise how wrong things were going. It had taken a single incident to open his eyes to the challenges his former rival had to face every day. When Ron, in a moment of utter insanity, had not only physically abused a man under his care, but had also come up with one of the most degrading tasks imaginable, he’d been utterly ashamed and been overcome with a sense of pity for Draco. Nobody was there to protect him, Harry, the one person who was supposed to make sure of that, had turned a blind eye.

As he was squatting in the dark recruits’ locker room beside a human being that was so scared that it tried to hide away in the shadows to protect itself from forces outside of its control, Harry had come to a decision. He would no longer turn a blind eye. He would observe and would make an effort to help if he could.

Harry had wished he could have taken Draco home then, tell him things would be alright from now on. He had wished he could find a way to apologise for his negligent behaviour.  
At the time Ginny had been waiting in the atrium already cross with him, because he had made her come to the ministry during their week off, because he had forgotten to forward a case file to a colleague. He promised himself he would make it up to Draco later, and when he’d walked into his silent house after dropping Ginny off at the Burrow, he felt overwhelmed by guilt. Draco had obviously retired already. Some impulse he couldn’t explain made him enter Draco’s room. Harry could make out the half uncovered form of Draco’s sleeping body lying on the bed. As he stepped closer his gaze fell on Draco’s face, his features strangely vulnerable in sleep touched something deep inside of him. He found himself tucking the covers over the sleeping form, before Harry could even think about how inappropriate his behaviour really was.

He must have made a noise, because suddenly Draco’s clear eyes had opened and focussed on him.

They had talked for a short while, but Harry had never managed to apologise. The guilt of waking Draco added to the one of not saving him from getting hurt. When Draco had made it clear that his presence wasn’t wanted, he’d left. Harry hadn’t been able to find rest that night. He had tossed and turned and come up with a plan on how to change things.

After that, things had changed between them. Their relationship of earlier years hadn’t been restored, but Harry had become Draco’s protector, and as the months passed, he had come to care for him more than on a simply professional level. Seeing Draco open up to him, even seeing glimpses of his old snark, had delighted him.

He hadn’t touched Draco again after the incident in the locker room, for fear of any kind of physical contact being misunderstood. Harry was the last person who would take advantage of someone under his care. 

It had become harder with every day. Draco seemed to crave physical contact. The nature of Draco’s sentence denied him even the simplest human contact. Harry began to consider it rather cruel when he saw what that deprivation did to Draco.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _19th June 1999_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _I am so stupid, stupid and uncontrolled!  
>  I was so excited when I found another rose bush, because I knew it’d make Draco happy to see it. I wanted to pick a rose and show him, because he was still busy planting lavender but while I was cutting the stem, he had already walked up behind me. I stuttered like a fool and I still cannot recollect what I said. He looked so beautiful with his dirt smeared hands and the rose petal that was sticking out of his hair. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him, so I just smiled and thrust out the rose at him. Stupidly excited, that’s what I was.  
> I shouldn’t have, I know that. He’s just being nice to me, because he fears what would happen if he wasn’t, but it’s been so lonely without Ginny here and he makes me feel so good. He makes me feel like I can be myself for once, he has no expectations of me, doesn’t need me to do anything for him that I wouldn’t freely give. I couldn’t bear looking at him and his adorable blush anymore. It was just too tempting! So I made up excuses and took the rose inside to put it in a vase. Merlin, I even caressed its petals pretending it was his cheek. I think there must be something seriously wrong with me._  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _It’s now already dark out and he’s asleep. I snuck out because my mind is so full of thought, I can’t seem to sleep. When I came back, having written those words above these, thinking I had myself under control, he was kneeling in the grass beside the rose bush. The sun was lighting his hair and face and he looked like something from another world. The wind was brushing through his hair and my fingers itched to touch it, to find out, whether it was as soft to the touch as I’d found myself imagining lately. He didn’t even know I was there. I can’t recall how long I stood there, looking down at him. I had noticed a smudge of earth marring his perfect cheek and couldn’t stop myself reaching out to brush it away. I still can’t believe I couldn’t keep my distance, he deserves so much better.  
>  His eyes opened and he held my gaze when he felt my hand touch his cheek. I tried to pull my hand away, because I knew I had overstepped my boundaries, but he held it tight, as if he knew what I wanted.  
> I didn’t know what was happening and then he said my name and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I cradled his face in my hands and kissed him. And he let me! I don’t know why he would. Or I do, but I can’t admit to myself that he only let me, because he feels like he owes me. He doesn’t owe me anything. God I want him so much, it makes my skin tingle just to think about how he held me.  
> I am ashamed that I took advantage of him. The shame burns me and I don’t know how I can face him. I feel torn between regret and my all consuming need for him. I already know that that need is going to drive me back into his bed tonight, because I tell myself that just one night won’t hurt us, if I only have this one night, I’ll be okay, we will be._  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _I love Ginny, but Merlin help me, I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything in my entire life._  
> 

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Ginny had left with an early portkey. Harry was still staring at the spot on the floor where she had stood only moments ago. They’d had a fight after she had seen Draco wearing his clothes. He could tell that she was jealous and despite what he’d told her, he had to admit at least to himself that there might be reason for it. They had both agreed on an open relationship during the time she spent at Quidditch camp. Whatever happened in each of their lives while they were separated wouldn’t matter once they were back together again.

Harry didn’t care whether Ginny was with someone else right now and he knew he should. He couldn’t remember much about last night, only that he’d been completely hammered by the time they had returned home. Harry had been afraid that they might wake Draco and tried to be quiet, even though he was the least stealthy drunk in existence. Draco could probably have heard him from the attic. Thank Merlin for hangover potions!

Harry turned around and walked back inside. Behind him the sun slowly began its ascent, the first rays already attempting to warm the roof of the house he was entering.

He listened for Draco’s gentle breathing as he walked past his room. Filled with a sudden panic when he realised that Draco wasn’t there, he began searching the entire house, checking every floor and every room and when he couldn’t find him, he made his way out onto the patio. Maybe they had woken Draco and he decided to take an early morning stroll through the garden.

Water from the grass soaked the hem of his trousers as he walked through the garden they had both laboured so hard to uncover. It didn’t take long for him to find Draco. He lay beneath the rosebush where they had shared their first kiss. The man was fast asleep, not waking up despite shivering in the cold air. 

The sun hadn’t yet reached this part of the garden and Harry cast a _lumos_ to brighten the area. 

The dew clung to Draco’s hair and eyelashes, making them sparkle in the bright light. His entire body was covered in tiny drops of water, the light from Harry’s wand turning them into liquid diamonds as it hit them. 

Harry carefully knelt down beside Draco, not yet sure whether he should wake him. He reached out and touched Draco’s cheek his skin was cold as ice. Decision made, he quickly withdrew his hand, got up and cast a series of spells on Draco, one drying his clothes, one warming him and one reducing his weight to next to nothing. Harry tenderly lifted the sleeping figure and held him close. Part of Draco seemed to realise that he was being carried inside, because he snuggled closer, pressing his nose into the crook of Harry’s neck.

It didn’t take long for Harry to reach the house and put Draco in his bed. The warming charms had worn off by then and he was shivering again. Harry tucked him in and after quickly stripping down to his boxers crawled under the covers with him, wrapping an arm around Draco’s waist and pulling him close.

Harry hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He awoke when Draco placed a kiss on the crown of his head. In this moment he could pretend that Draco wanted him, that he wasn’t just indulging him. That he had kissed him, because he wanted to and not because he felt obliged to.

Drifting off back into sleep, Harry knew Draco had asked him something but couldn’t quite remember his answers. When he woke next, Draco was still fast asleep but their sleeping positions had been reversed. Now it was Draco who was cradling him protectively as if, even in his sleep, Draco had known what Harry needed. 

The thought of just how much Draco meant to him was what finally drove him out of the bed they’d shared for what had been left of the night. He was terrified of the strength of the emotion running through him. He wasn’t ready to name it yet, let alone come to terms with it.

Harry went down to the kitchen to make coffee. He needed time to think.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _28th June 1999_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _I can’t seem to stay away from him. Last night I found him asleep in the garden. The stupid idiot must have fallen asleep watching the fireflies or something similarly silly. He almost gave me a heart attack. And still, I can’t seem to keep my hands to myself around him and Merlin knows I’ve tried, everything about him just screams for me to touch him, to hold him to do unspeakable things to him. The only thing holding me back is that I already know he’ll let me. He’ll let me do anything I want, take anything I need and it terrifies me that I cannot stop myself from wanting it or taking it, despite the fact that I shouldn’t.  
>  How can this man possibly be this beautiful when he’s sleeping? There’s this innocence around him, almost like a glow, making me want to protect him, seeing him sleep always makes me feel worse about myself and yet I couldn’t even stop myself reaching out and tracing the lines of his face. His skin is so soft, not even the rose which is still on his bedside table had petals as soft. He probably just keeps it there, because he knows how much I like it. The delusion that he keeps it because it means something to him is one that I am not yet willing to contradict.  
> He woke up when I touched his face and I almost spilled all the dirty little secrets that I thought I had locked away inside my heart. I almost told him how impossibly beautiful he was, how much I longed to touch him, feel him, hear him in every waking second.  
> When he smiled his sleepy smile at me, he stole my heart and I feel the loss._  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Merlin, I am in love with Draco Malfoy!_  
> 

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _2nd September 1999_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Today he came over and packed the last of his things. I felt like such a sap, because I could hardly keep my emotions hidden from him when I saw him standing there with his boxes in the hallway, taking one last look around to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything and all I wanted to do was keep him with me, lock him up with me forever and hide the two of us away from the world. Just like when we worked on the garden, that had been lovely, just the two of us. Even thinking about what he looked like, wearing my trousers, because his were too “fine” to get dirty. I find myself smiling as I want to make air-quotation marks to imitate just how over the top he can be at times. It used to drive me insane, but recently I’ve found it endearing. Merlin help me!  
>  I can’t be selfish, I shouldn’t be. I should let him fly, because don’t they say that you have to let go what you love, because it’ll be so much sweeter if it returns. Does it make me a sad pathetic loser that I can’t let go, that I want to press him to my chest and hold him there forever and a moment?  
> But of course I had to let him go. I helped him shrink his luggage and walked him to the border of the property. He was probably happy to go home. It scares me that I don’t even know whether I’ll see him again._  
> 

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Harry had just returned from a weekend at Malfoy Manor. He couldn’t believe that Draco had invited him to stay. He’d expected that this sweet gorgeous funny Draco he’d been allowed to get to know during their time together would have disappeared by now.

Despite Draco telling him that he loved him during their last encounter in Harry’s office, Harry hadn’t been able to believe him. It probably was just because Draco didn’t have more worthwhile company that he thought himself in love with Harry. 

Ginny was due to arrive at Grimmauld Place any day now. She’d completed her training and was currently taking some well deserved time off with one of her team mates. Things would go back to normal soon, he was sure of it. Once Ginny moved back in with him, he would get over his infatuation and live the life he was meant to. He would set Draco free, no matter how much it hurt him. It was better for them both.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

“I thought you wanted me to do the laundry this week Harry. What the fuck did I do wrong this time?”

“Nothing, I… never mind! Sorry I yelled at you!” Harry said, taking Ginny into his arms and holding her close so she wouldn’t be able to see his face.

Ginny had cleaned all of his clothes, but she’d also washed his dressing gown, which had still smelled of Draco, even almost a month after he’d last worn it. Harry had hidden it at the bottom of his wardrobe under a stasis charm and sometimes, when he couldn’t bear it any longer and he was sure that Ginny wasn’t at home, he would take it out, press the soft fabric to his face inhale deeply and let the memories come. In those moments he could pretend that Draco had been with him of his own free will.

Earlier Harry had snuck up to his room, which he now only used to get dressed, because Ginny and him shared the master bedroom. When Harry had discovered that Ginny had emptied his wardrobe including the dressing gown he had hidden away so well, he had been furious. He’d shouted at Ginny for going through his things and not respecting his privacy, when all he’d really wanted to say had been that he hated her for taking away the one reminder of Draco that was left to him. He knew he was wrong to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it.

He was trying to move on, he really was. He’d declined Draco’s last invitation to visit him at the Manor and hadn’t replied to the last two letters he had sent. Despite that, he still hadn’t been ready to let go entirely, and he’d only realised that when nothing of Draco remained in his life. Harry hid all this from his friends – but especially from Ginny.

The next day, Grimmauld Place was overrun by reporters and almost buried under a flood of letters and howlers, as the Prophet published a story on Draco and his affair. They didn’t print any details, but they appeared to know enough.

They had been so careful. Harry hadn’t talked to the Prophet – he never did. Nobody had known about it, not even their closest friends, so it must have been Draco who had gone to the press. The betrayal he felt, even though he should have been expecting it, hurt more than he could bear. Shortly thereafter he started sending Draco’s letters back unopened.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _10th October 1999_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _I sent back another of his letters today. I can’t even bear to think that I held something in my hand that he touched. I don’t know what to think anymore. Everything has just become incredibly complicated and I still want him.  
>  Ginny has been a star throughout the entire Prophet ordeal, appearing with me in public and respecting my wishes to not speak to the press. I don’t know how she does it, but she always knows what I need the most and never refuses to give it. Ron and I went to London a few days ago to buy the rings. I don’t know when he plans to ask Hermione, but I am going to ask Ginny soon. It’ll probably not be perfect, but then she’s not really into that. She knows me too well.  
> My disillusionment spell must have slipped while we were out, because suddenly I was surrounded by utter insanity. There really is no other word for it. People were yelling at me and shoving me, it had just started to rain and nobody seemed to care. There were a couple of Aurors there, but they didn’t seem to have a clue what was going on either and then out of nowhere the reporters showed up. I did the manly thing then and fled into a nearby bookshop. I have to say that I was never happier to slam a door behind me.  
> My luck was short-lived of course, because I encountered the last person I wanted to see.  
> I have no idea what Draco was doing in that shop or whether he was the original cause of that commotion, but when I saw him my entire body betrayed me. I’ve never felt so out of control as I did around him then. I tried to suppress my feelings, but he just kept advancing.  
> He said he didn’t speak to the Prophet, but I still can’t believe him. I guess I deserve this for the liberties I took with him. It’s just my luck that I actually have feelings for him still. I thought I was over him, but quite obviously I am not.  
> I let him kiss me in front of all those people. It didn’t seem to matter to him that they could see us, or maybe they couldn’t I can’t remember at this point. I am convinced he did it only to humiliate me further and I am disgusted by my own weakness. I gave in to him so easily, a single touch was all it took and I lost myself in the touch of his lips. I can feel them on mine even now. Ginny has kissed me since and I can still feel his lips and his hands, he’s everywhere, in me and around me constantly. I feel like I am being unfaithful to Ginny, if only inside my head, simply because I cannot give my all to her. I fear Draco has taken part of my heart with him and I am not sure I’ll ever recover from it.  
> I know I am being unfair to Ginny and I am going to make it up to her soon, I already have it all planned out and after that there’ll only be her and nobody else. I know, I’ll ask her and then we can invite Ron and Hermione over and celebrate. That’s how I’ll do it. I am sure she’ll say yes!_  
> 

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Harry was sitting at his writing desk by the window. The curtains were closed and the only source of illumination came from the single guttering candle he’d brought up with him. The day had been uncharacteristically dark and cold, the wind and rain doing nothing to improve his mood. He was planning to ask Ginny later. Work didn’t allow either of them to take a holiday just now, so he’d decided this was the next best thing.

Everything was ready for the big moment and he felt confident in his decision, or so he’d thought until his gaze had fallen onto the spot where Draco’s last letter had lain for several days before he had finally decided to send it back unopened.

He had sat at his desk for over an hour now, starting and discarding letters to Draco that included anything from outright accusations of stalking to desperate pleas for him to forgive Harry and come back to him so they could make love.

In his mind it was hard to decide where he ended and Draco began. He couldn’t remember anymore why being apart was a good idea. It felt like he was two people – one who rejoiced in the logical choice of getting married, having children with the woman he loved and sharing an uncomplicated family-oriented life with her, and the other person discarded logic and was all passion and need. Even remembering touching Draco’s skin would make his hand twitch in response, as if it was unconsciously trying to re-enact the moment.

Harry had tried to stop being that person when the war was over. He’d wanted to let go, step out of the darkness and be the hero everyone was expecting him to be. Wanting Draco was wrong. It was part of the darkness and what scared him the most was that he had no control over it whatsoever. The only strategy that had proved somewhat successful had been removing Draco from his life.

Draco couldn’t possibly have wanted him. He’d somehow found out that Harry wanted him and reacted accordingly to improve his situation. If Harry hadn’t known better, he’d have thought Draco had reciprocated his feelings – but Draco Malfoy hated him, that much was a universal truth and would never change. The sun rose in the east, the earth revolved around the sun and Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy hated each other. A cold ugly laugh escaped Harry at the notion. At least one of them would safely go on hating the other, probably more so after the liberties Harry had taken, but to him things would never be the same.

He shivered as he recollected their encounter in his office. Harry had been so full of need that he couldn’t concentrate on his work, and when Ron had said he’d go out to lunch to meet Hermione it had taken him all of five minutes to come to a decision and send his note. He’d half expected Draco to resist but instead he had taken charge for the first time, letting Harry forget the dynamics of their relationship and for once being able to pretend he wasn’t doing something wrong. If he had asked him then, Harry would have let Draco fuck him. Right there, bent over his own desk like some wanton whore.

Shame washed over him as felt himself harden in his pants at the mere thought. No, this had to stop; he had to put an end to it. Succumbing to Malfoy’s wiles meant succumbing to the darkness and he couldn’t let that happen. He hated the person he had become, and even though he would have loved to punish Draco for it, he knew that that would have been worse. Harry felt disgusted by these thoughts, and punished himself for every single one of them.

The small clock on the desk beside him chimed, announcing that it was time for him to get ready. He carefully incinerated every single letter he’d written today and vanished the ashes. He couldn’t take the risk of anyone finding evidence of his depravity, least of all Ginny – and he’d already underestimated her once before.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Asking Ginny to marry him had gone more smoothly than he could have asked for. Of course she had said yes. After all, they had both already planned their lives together before she went away for training camp. She’d make him better, he just knew it, and he was actually happy about fate giving him another chance. She would never know about the darkness inside of him. She deserved better and he would do his best to make her dreams come true.

Everyone was currently sitting in the living room, enjoying a glass of wine and laughing. Harry had just headed to the cellar to fetch another bottle when he heard a knock, so tentative to be almost inaudible, at the front door. He answered, even though he wasn’t expecting anyone else. 

When he opened the door and found Draco, soaked and windswept, Harry had to fight his impulse to bring him inside and take care of him. He looked confused and scared. Remembering his resolution from earlier, Harry schooled his face into a neutral mask and asked him what he wanted, when Draco, no, Malfoy, didn’t speak. 

He could still hear his friends and fiancée chattering in the background and he drew strength from that. His new life had begun and he wouldn’t let his old sins haunt anyone but himself.

“I… may I come in Harry?” Malfoy looked like a kicked puppy after hearing Harry’s cold tone.

“This is isn’t a good time. I am having friends over. If there’s nothing else.” Harry tried to close the door. He could do this. He could shut out what he had done to Draco and move on. Harry realised that Malfoy wouldn’t let him get away that easily.

“Harry, what’s wrong? I really need to speak with you. Please let me in.”

Harry could feel his resolve wavering, the want and need almost taking over, before he heard his friends laugh and remembered himself. They could never know, nobody could know about the darkness within him.

“There’s nothing to talk about Malfoy. Now if you’ll excuse me?”

Harry hardly heard what Draco said next, he was listening so hard for what his friends where doing.

“Does what we have, what we feel mean so little to you that you can simply abandon it? Do I mean that little to you? Don’t throw this away Harry. I need you, and I know that you need me too. Just tell me what’s wrong. I need to know!” Oh God, what had he done. He’d broken Draco Malfoy. The man believed himself to have feelings for him. This couldn’t be happening. Harry needed to get out of this conversation and fast. He needed to hide from the guilt.

Harry told the desperate man in front of him that he didn’t need him and didn’t want him. Told him that they’d never had anything, because how could they? He tried to keep that desolate voice from getting to him to no avail, but Harry knew that it would haunt him until the day he died.

“I can’t let you go Harry. I just can’t, it would break my heart to see you with anyone else. Just please let me in. Let me make things right. Don’t let it end like this. Please change your mind, remember how you felt when you were with me.”

As Harry heard Draco’s words, he could feel his own heart break. Nobody and nothing could ever fix the man and it was all his fault. He had to end this, send him away with enough cruelty that he could move on.

He did his best to school his features into a sneer and went on to say the words that he already knew part of him would forever regret.

“That’s all well and good Malfoy, but tell me, how could anyone break something that doesn’t exist?” Seeing the stricken expression on Malfoy’s face was too much for him. He’d done this to set Draco free, to free him from the twisted sick thing that had existed between them, but it looked like it had destroyed him as much as it had Harry. Harry slowly closed the door in Draco’s face, locking him out of his life forever.

The laughter and busy chatter still coming from the living room reminded him that he had duties and still hadn’t brought up more wine. He made his way to the cellar, grabbed the first bottle he found and went back to the others. Harry uncorked the bottle, mumbled something about letting it breathe and made up some excuse about wanting to catch some fresh air, before escaping into the garden.

He didn’t care about the rain or the cold, he didn’t care where his feet took him, but he wasn’t surprised to find himself surrounded by the scent of roses and lavender. He’d done the right thing, hadn’t he? 

But if it had been the right thing, why did it hurt so much? He’d let Draco go – had set him free, like he deserved. It was all for the best! Soon his life would be busy with wedding plans, with work and children, and he’d forget about his sins. He would repent for them – with every single day, every single deed he would repent, make it up to Ginny and to his friends and everyone who would let him.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _13th December 1999_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _My beautiful bride is asleep in our bed. She looks gorgeous with her red hair spread over the white pillows. She’s such a mattress hog! If asked, she would never admit it, but she always does the “starfish” when she’s asleep. Her limbs are EVERYWHERE. I have no idea how she does it with just two of each, but I could have sworn she had more extremities than a regular person.  
>  I love how she smells and how soft her hair is. I wonder whether I got her pregnant tonight, I want a family more than anything, but sometimes I think that one of the reasons is that a family would be distracting, would be something to keep me busy constantly and not leave much time for thought. Time free of nagging worry and thought is something that I crave. I think I am one of the few blokes in our circle of friends who dove head first into our wedding preparations. People have been saying it’s weird I had such fun preparing the wedding, because I am the groom. Well screw them, I need my life full of the things that challenge me and keep me busy, so I can fall into bed exhausted and sleep without dreams. I sometimes still dream of him and I always tell Gin that I am having nightmares, never specifying about what, she probably thinks they are about Voldemort or something. But they are far from nightmares. In my dreams we were never forced to live together and I wasn’t his custodian. In my dreams he is the one that approaches me and tells me he wants me and he takes charge like he did that day in my office. In the mornings I feel guilty, because I am lying to Gin about it, but I know she wouldn’t understand.  
> I am beginning to realise that those two people I am inside will never become one again, they are too different from each other and drifting further apart with every passing day.  
> Oh, my little starfish just stirred, I’d better go back to bed before she sees me writing in this diary. I already charmed it so only I could read what it says on its pages, but I am afraid she might find a way around that. That’s the kind of person she is and I love her for it._  
> 

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Ginny had made him take the afternoon off and meet her for coffee in Diagon Alley. They were planning another dinner party to celebrate finally finishing the redecoration of Grimmauld Place and Harry had always got involved before. If he was honest with himself his interest in domestic affairs was already waning, but he would never tell anyone. Life with Ginny had turned out to be much more exciting than he could have hoped for, but just like with so many things, some were more exciting than others.

He suspected that one of the reasons they absolutely _had_ to have the dinner party a week before Valentine’s Day was because she was trying to set up some of their friends. Ron and Hermione had decided to wait and planned to get married in a year or two, and the same went for everyone else. They just wanted to figure out what to do with their lives now that they actually had a choice. Ginny, the first one to be married among their acquaintances, would have none of it. She’d taken it onto herself to see everyone happily involved with, engaged or married to other people. Her obsessive matchmaking a trait which Harry never ceased to find amusing.

Gin was late as usual. Harry had received a memo earlier telling him that she would be ten to twenty minutes late. He chose to window shop to pass the time. 

He was wandering aimlessly when someone ran straight into him, causing them both to stumble and fall to the floor. Harry was so used to people making way for ‘the great Harry Potter’ that he’d been completely unprepared.

As he attempted to disentangle himself he noticed just whom he was on the floor with.

Malfoy’s hand was touching his. His skin felt electric where they were connected and desire so intense rushed through him that he quickly tore his hand away, wiping it on his trousers to stop the mortifying feeling. The entire exercise proved pointless. After months of peace of mind the want was back, burning hotter than ever before. The people surrounding them all but forgotten, it took all of his not inconsiderable self control to not lean in and close the gap between them and letting his fingers run all over Malfoy’s beautiful body.

Harry was disgusted with himself and it must have shown on his face, because Malfoy looked stricken. Harry was just about to apologise and then flee the scene when someone slung an arm around his waist. It was Ginny who, as always, was quick to insult Malfoy.

Unexpected rage directed at Ginny surged up inside of him. If she only knew! It wasn’t Draco’s fault, none of it was. It was all Harry’s doing, he was the depraved one, the one that should be punished for his misdeeds. Malfoy was only a victim and deserved to be saved from all this.

His hand still burned where it had come in contact with Draco’s skin, filling his mind with images of what could have been.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _5th February 2000_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _This is the first time in weeks that I’ve picked up a pen and this diary. I was hoping the need to spill my secrets in writing would diminish as time passed.  
>  I saw him again today. I was in Diagon Alley. I walked, not paying attention, too caught up in my own thoughts I guess, when I collided with him. We both fell to the floor. I could smell the scent of his skin and his hand touched mine. I wish I could turn back time and hold him to me once more. I don’t even care whether what I did back then was wrong anymore, maybe it’s just the need in me that’s speaking, but if I could have, if Ginny had shown up later, I am sure I would have dragged him into the next alleyway and pretty much mauled him. That single touch brought back memories of every touch and kiss we shared and even now I can’t sleep because of it. When I imagine what we would have done in that alleyway…  
> But I can’t let myself remember the things we did. I wish there was a way to effectively self-obliviate only certain memories, things would be so much easier then.  
> I am happy right now with Ginny, I love her and I love what we share, it makes me feel like part of something larger, something pure and free of burden. It’s the opposite of what I felt with him, I have a future with Ginny and with him there was nothing. And yet being with him is an ever growing temptation. I can’t give in, I won’t.  
> When Ginny started ranting about him I got so angry with her, I could hardly speak. I wanted her to stop, to just shut up, I couldn’t bear it. I don’t even know why. I just want this feeling to go away, just want for this to be over. Isn’t it enough now, didn’t I sacrifice enough already? _  
> 

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

The weather had been mild and beautiful for days, and Harry would have loved to spend yet another evening at the Burrow with Ginny and his family. If it hadn’t been for the ministry event that evening that’s where he would be right now, sitting on a blanket in the garden, listening to the wind in the fields around them and watching the bats chase insects through the slowly darkening sky. He would caress Ginny’s hair while her head lay in his lap, whispering sweet nothings, while she pointed out their favourite made up constellations.

They’d found out she was pregnant three months ago, and for the first time he could remember, Harry had been completely and utterly happy. The life growing inside her was their future. He’d somehow managed to help create something good. All his sacrifices finally had meaning and all his sins had been forgiven in that single moment. When he’d found out, he’d dedicated his life and entire being to his child, and finally it had felt like he had done enough.

Now he was standing waving and smiling beside his wife, his arm slung around her waist, while the flashes went off around them. This was the first the wizarding world knew of the next generation of Potter-Weasleys, and it had become a glorious day for all wizarding kind.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

He was being punished for every wrong he had ever done. He just knew it. Why else would fate decide to take the one thing from him that had made him happier than anything in his life ever had?

She didn’t even want to see him, had just sent him away, he’d felt lost and helpless and for the first time he could remember in years, the two parts of him acted in unison, wanting and needing the same thing.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _7th November 2002_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _It’s been a week, since we last spoke and I am at my wits’ end. It’s like The first of November is tainted somehow, only bad things seem to happen on this day.  
>  Why is it always me? Why do these things always happen to me and my family? Isn’t it enough already?  
> I feel like I am cursed. Maybe there is something wrong with me. My parents died because of me, my friends and family died for me in the war. There’s death and destruction around me all the time and I cannot seem to protect the ones I love. Maybe it’s best not to love at all. It might be the greatest force in the universe, but it’s also the most destructive the most painful there is. No loss is greater than the loss of love.  
> Ginny still isn’t speaking to me and I brought her home from St Mungo’s not two days ago and it’s like we aren’t even part of the same species. It feels as if we are both at different sides of the universe with no light to guide us home. I am not sure we can fix things this time. I am not sure I really want to anymore.  
> It’s true I am cursed. I deserve everything that fate deals me. I’ll deserve it when everyone I love abandons me.  
> To love me or be loved by me is dangerous and I’ve finally realised that the risks far outweigh the rewards. Sometimes I wonder how long it’ll take the world to figure that out._  
> 

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

They had tried, they really had, but now, two years after Ginny had lost the baby, they were further apart than ever before. Their marriage wasn’t working and they were both unhappy. Ginny had made Harry move back into his old room and he’d spent the last three months sleeping alone, while she slept in the master bedroom.

He had done his best to make her happy, but it hadn’t been enough. It was as if the harder he tried, the less she appreciated his efforts. Nothing could cheer her up and the one time he’d suggested they try for another baby had taught him to never mention procreation around her again.

Her behaviour towards him had grown increasingly cold over the years and who was he to blame her? She’d said that there was something seriously wrong with him and that they should get therapy to work things out, but he had refused. Not because he thought he didn’t need it, but because deep down he’d known that what had broken between them couldn’t be fixed through talking or anything else.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

She was standing in the hallway beside her packed bags, her demeanour painfully remindful of Draco’s departure years earlier. So it was starting, they would all leave him soon and the empty soulless being he had become didn’t know how to stop the people he loved from leaving him, short of tying them up and hiding them away inside his house forever.

Ginny was speaking, but he hardly heard the words.

“I’m moving back to the Burrow. I’ll send George and Bill over for the rest of my stuff later this week.”

Harry didn’t know what to say, he wanted to beg her to stay with him, tell her that he was terrified of the loneliness that would invade his life if she left, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Gin…I…I’m sorry.”

She smiled at him then, for the first time in months. She reached out and caressed his cheek.

“I know dearest, and I’m sorry too, but now I’ve got to go. I think it would be best if we avoided each other for a while. I hope that someday you’ll find someone who can give you what I can’t give you anymore. Take care Harry.”

With that she turned and walked out of his life.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Harry buried himself in work, spending longer hours at the office every week. The first time Kingsley caught him sleeping at his desk, he scolded him, the second time he threatened him with a disciplinary hearing. This one he said wouldn’t be a farce like the last one when the article about Draco had been in the Prophet.. The third time Kingsley suspended him, threatening to fire him if he so much as showed his face at the ministry within the next four weeks.

Confined to the house that had seen his downfall and his worst moments, Harry felt like he was slowly going insane. His obsession with his failures and his sins grew to such an extent that he avoided his friends and began making up excuses whenever he was supposed to meet with them. Even though he should have known better, Harry was surprised when Hermione finally had enough and cornered him. She showed up at his home unannounced and let herself in.

Hermione had become a successful therapist. She’d gone back to school after the war like many others and had taken the time to find out where her passion lay. She seemed to have a knack for treating trauma patients and, even though she’d repeatedly told both him and Ron that they should speak to someone, had always refused to treat them herself.

She told Harry that she’d spoken to a few of her colleagues who would be willing to work with him, if he wanted, but Harry refused. He did want to talk to someone about everything that was going on inside him, but he wanted it to be someone he could trust unconditionally. With Ginny’s departure the number of people he trusted had shrunk to two – and even Ginny had not been allowed to see certain sides of him.

Hermione finally agreed to at least listen to what he had to say and then see about giving him advice on how to proceed. They sat in the same living room where they had talked and joked after Harry had proposed to Ginny. It had become close to unbearable how every room was full of painful memories. If he had had anywhere else to go, Harry would have tried to burn down Grimmauld Place in an attempt to extinguish the pain.

Harry talked for what felt like hours. He talked about the time when Ginny lost the baby and of his guilt, he talked of what happened between him and Draco and the aftermath and how he still couldn’t let go. He talked about the darkness inside of him and of the two people inhabiting his body who both wanted completely different things out of love and how much it hurt to be so divided down to his very core.

He kept returning to the topic of Draco and of how he felt with Draco around him. Even now those memories were overshadowed by guilt, but when Hermione made him talk more about it and tell her what he felt beside the guilt, the enormity of his feelings overcame him once more. When he told her about the diary he’d been keeping, she asked to see it, but he refused, claiming it to be too personal to share with anyone.

“So, have you talked to him since then?”

“No, how could I after what I did and how I treated him?”

“Don’t think you that you should let him decide whether he wants to speak with you?”

“I… but how? Nobody has seen him for months, years even; nobody knows where he is, or what he is doing. He probably left the country and has forgotten all about me, happily fucking every bloke he meets for all I know,” Harry said, hoping that it wasn’t true.

“Harry, I feel like I’ve been very patient with you about this. You will not sort yourself out unless you talk to him about what happened and find out what he thinks. I am telling you this as your friend, not as a therapist, but you should still listen to what I have to say. I think you need to stop running. You need to stop making excuses for not dealing with what you did and start facing the consequences. Stop letting your fear, your guilt and your self-hatred dictate your every move. You are a Gryffindor, for Merlin’s sake, behave like one. I can’t say I don’t disapprove of what you did, but I can understand you to some extent. There’s always been a special connection between the two of you, and being forced to spend a year in such close proximity would have changed both of you.”

Harry was quiet for a long time, he had been surprised by the forcefulness with which she had spoken. He hadn’t been aware that she felt this strongly about it. Reflecting on what she said, he realised that she was right. Every decision he had made in the last few years had been shaped by his guilt and his desire to be someone else. Harry didn’t even know who he truly was anymore. 

What if sorting things out with Draco would help him to get his life back on track so he could be true to who he was? But where to begin? He didn’t have a clue where to start his search for Draco, and said so to Hermione.

“Oh, come off it. More excuses – that’s all you are giving me. You are an Auror for fuck’s sake, use your head. I am going to make this one easy for you though. After that you are on your own. I know for a fact that Malfoy is still in Britain. He’s probably living at the Manor, because I’ve been receiving high quality potions from a new supplier and after I remarked on the improved effects, he sort of hinted at buying them from a new man who’d just finished his potions masters degree specialising in psycho-active potions. Does that remind of you someone we both know?”

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Hermione had been incredibly convincing the day before. She had only relented when Harry had said he needed time to think about what to say.

When he reached the Manor it was more heavily warded than he remembered and he had to wait for a house elf to pick him up at the gate and accompany him to the heavy oak front doors. His heart began beating faster as he beheld Draco. He’d become almost too thin, but that didn’t seem to diminish his beauty in the least. His gaze was distrustful, completely unlike the last time Harry had seen him, and it stung.

They both just stood there, staring at each other, neither willing or able to break the increasingly oppressing silence that was stretching between them. All the words and explanations Harry had thought up during yet another sleepless night had escaped him. His mind was completely empty and he was terrified by the enormity of the task lying in front of him.

Finally Draco broke the silence.

“What do you want Potter?”

“I… may I come in please?” This was going wrong already, Harry could feel it.

“I don’t think so. I don’t want you on my property, let alone inside my house. So, say your piece and leave.”

This was not how things had progressed inside his head last night. Draco had asked him to come inside and they’d talked over tea, that’s how things were supposed to go. Not like this, this distant and cold Draco he had completely forgot how to deal with. Still, looking back at how things had gone, he probably didn’t deserve any better.

“I came to talk to you about what happened between us, and to ask your forgiveness for taking advantage of you and for treating you so poorly afterwards.” He swallowed audibly at the stormy expression crossing Draco’s face. Harry ploughed on terrified and at the same time desperate to make himself heard. “I wanted to give you an explanation of why things went so terribly wrong.”

“You have the audacity to call how you treated me ‘poorly’ and I thought you couldn’t surprise me anymore. Quite obviously I was mistaken. Frankly it’s too late for apologies. I don’t want them, and I don’t want you. As for explanations, do you really think I still care? Do you truly think that I haven’t moved on after all those years?”

“Draco, please, just listen to me.”

“And do what? Give you the time of day when you wouldn’t give it to me? Listen to an explanation that’s five years too late, just so you can feel better about yourself? I don’t think so. Go wallow in your guilt like a good little Gryffindor. Go back to your little wife and play happy family. I don’t want you here.”

Draco’s words hurt more than he had expected they would. Even his worst case scenario didn’t include Draco refusing to at least listen to what he had to say. Things were so fucked up between them, Harry was starting to think that nothing in this world could ever fix them.

“She left me.” Harry’s voice sounded resigned and too quiet as he spoke.

“What was that?”

“I said she left me, Ginny left me several months ago. I thought…I hoped …”

“Well, face it, karma is a bitch! What do you expect me to do Potter? To just forgive and forget because you’ve been down on your luck?”

“I expected you to at least acknowledge that there was something between us, that there was something that we needed to talk about. I expected you to at least listen to what I had to say, but I see that I was wrong about you,” Harry said, sounding bitter even to his own ears.

“You have no right to expect anything of me Potter. You basically pushed me into your bed, made me fall in love with you, isolated me from my friends and family and when you were done using me, you broke my heart and left me out in the cold. Then you told me to my face that I was less than human, worth less than you, because I had no heart. How do you expect me to forget those things, let alone forgive them?”

Draco’s voice was oddly gentle as he spoke.

“I’m asking you politely to leave now. Please don’t make me do the same thing to you that you did to me. Just stay away from me please, because I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

Harry was stunned into silence. He had blown it, had blown any chance of happiness. Draco was conferring with someone on the other side of the door, closing it slowly in his face without even so much as goodbye. A house-elf appeared beside Harry and apparated him outside the Manor gates and beyond its wards.

“Master Draco has asked Poxy to make sure Mr. Harry Potter leave the premises and check that Mr. Potter is not loitering.”

“Thank you Poxy, I understand.” Harry said. He could hear the house-elf whispering to herself. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“No, Poxy didn’t say anything. Poxy is no longer allowed to speak to the unwanted guest.” She said loudly and went on to mumble so quietly, that he had to lean in close to understand her. “Master Draco is calling Mr. Harry Potter’s name in his sleep still. Would be better for him to speak to Mr. Harry Potter. Poxy can’t help Master. Poxy must punish herself for speaking to Mr. Harry Potter, but no one else can make the Master better. Master is not ready though, Master is still hurt. Mr. Potter must wait, patience, patience is the key!” Harry could already see Poxy tearing at her own ear as the words spilled out of her. It was obvious that she wanted him to hear them because she wanted him to help Draco, but already needed to punish herself for disobeying a direct order.

“Poxy, I am leaving now, I didn’t hear anything. There’s really no need to punish yourself!” Harry said stepping away; he cast one look at her, seeing relief appear on her face for the briefest moment. He nodded at her once and disapparated.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Over a year had passed since their last encounter. Harry was standing in front of those dark oak doors again, waiting for them to open. It had taken him longer to break through the Manor’s wards than he had anticipated, they obviously had been reinforced since he’d last been here, but he’d finally made it.

Encouraged by Poxy’s words, he had worked on a plan on how to fix things. Several new spells had been involved, and the fruit of his labour was now safely wrapped in brown packing paper. It had to work, it just had to. Draco wouldn’t be able to deny speaking to him after this.

Over the course of that year, Harry had slowly come to terms with his feelings for Draco. He’d spoken to Hermione often, working through his guilt and self-hatred, to become a person worthy of the man he loved.

He had planned for every eventuality and come up with a solution to make Draco take the parcel, or so he’d thought until Pansy Parkinson of all people opened the door.

“Parkinson? What are you doing here?” He was fucked! Parkinson had already hated him at school, no way no how would she help him win Draco back.

“I could very well ask you the same thing. What makes you think you can break through the Manor’s wards without being discovered? You’ve been told in the past that your presence here is not wanted. What makes you believe that’s changed?” Her voice was cold and not a little bit scary.

“I came to speak to Draco and give him this,” Harry said, indicating the parcel in his hand.

“What do you want from him Potter? Are you bored? Is that it? Haven’t you fucked with his head enough already? I can’t even get him to leave the fucking house.” Her tone was accusatory.

“I… what?”

“You heard me! Draco doesn’t leave the house anymore. If I even suggest taking a walk in the Manor grounds or if he has to sit by a window facing the garden he starts shaking like a leaf. So tell me, Hero-boy, what do you want?”

“I’m sorry, I truly didn’t know. I… would you please give this to him? I can’t promise it’ll make things better, but it’s very important that he get it. It took me over a year to prepare.”

“I don’t think so.” She made to close the door in his face.

“Please Parkinson, just give this to him. You don’t even have to say whom it’s from. I promise I will never show my face here again if he doesn’t want me to.” Harry knew he was begging and he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Alright Potter, hand it over. I’ll give it to him, but I expect you to keep your word and stay the fuck away from him.” She grabbed the parcel and slammed the door in his face, making him feeling foolish as his ‘thank you’ went unheard.

Now all he had to do was wait.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Months had passed since Harry had handed the parcel over to Parkinson and he had given up hope. She probably hadn’t even given it to Draco like she’d said she would and incinerated it on the spot. Or maybe it simply hadn’t worked; maybe it hadn’t been enough to convince Draco that what had existed between them was worth salvaging.

Christmas and New Year had come and gone, seeing Harry alone inside of Grimmauld Place, sick and tired of making merry with his friends and surrogate family and pretending everything was all right, when it so clearly wasn’t. He had thrown himself back into work once the holidays were over and Kingsley had threatened to suspend him for the second time only a week ago, because Harry had fallen asleep at his desk one time too many again.

He didn’t know what to do with his life. He didn’t want to go home, because the house felt dark and oppressive, its emptiness more than he could bear. Maybe he should just leave England and start afresh somewhere else. Even as he thought about it, he knew it wouldn’t change a thing and would probably only upset him more.

His mood had reached a new low when the stack of memos on his desk glowed briefly, revealing a short unsigned message written in a neat script that made his heart hammer in his chest.

  


_Come to the Manor, tomorrow at 2pm_  


~.o.O.0.O.o.~

His breath fogged in the air as he stood in front of the closed front doors for the third time in as many years. He didn’t know what to expect. The wards had let him through this time, giving him hope. Surely Draco wouldn’t have keyed him back into the wards if he intended to crush his hopes? After all it took days to key someone into wards like these.

The grounds around him were covered in snow and he jumped from one foot to the other to keep warm, rubbing his hands and attempting to blow life back into them. He really should have brought gloves but had had other things on his mind than the cold when it was time to leave.

Harry’s heart sped up as he heard footsteps approach the door. It opened slowly, revealing an impeccably dressed Draco who wasn’t quite smiling, but at least not frowning at him.

“Draco,” He breathed.

And finally, hearing his name spoken with such reverence, Draco smiled. “I think you’d better come inside Harry, we have a lot to discuss.”

Harry returned the brilliant smile as he stepped over the threshold. He didn’t know what the future held, but he suspected that just maybe things would be all right again.

~ Fin ~

~ Epilogue ~

He woke up panting and drenched in cold sweat from yet another nightmare. Harry had been lurking in the shadows of the Manor wherever he went. When in his dream he had finally gone to bed, Harry had advanced on him slowly and menacingly. He still hadn’t said a word. Draco cowered under his covers like a child. His hopes that Harry wouldn’t find him there were quickly shattered. The covers were suddenly torn away from Draco and there he was, eyes blazing and bearing down on him. “Pretty little Slytherin, ‘m going to make you scream your lungs out,” he’d whispered and made a grab for Draco, who had finally been able to move again and run from his bedroom.

Harry had chased him through the Manor, always closing in, but never quite catching him until he finally brought Draco down with a “Sectumsempra”.

When Draco woke in the dream, he was back in his bed, tied to it with thick rope and naked apart from his pants. The sheets were soaked in blood and the little he could see of his torso was streaked with clean open wounds that oozed more blood. It slowly trickled down his ribs. He still couldn’t see the man who’d done this to him. Draco tried the ropes and had to admit defeat even before Harry returned.

Harry, with that predatory prowl that he had so admired and that had never failed to make Draco want him, approached the bed slowly, a gentle dreamy expression on his face that stood in complete contrast to what he’d already done to Draco. He broke into a smile as he took out his wand. Draco still hoped that he would heal his wounds and let him go, but another sharp pain on his chest, just above his heart told him otherwise.

Harry pointed his wand at Draco’s chest and began carving away the skin and flesh above his heart, making him scream in agony.

“Harry, please! Harry please stop!” But Harry just went on cutting, not even looking at Draco.

“Harry, don’t take my heart, don’t take it away please.”

Finally Harry turned to Draco, his eyes cold, he plunged his hand into Draco’s open chest and tore out his still beating heart, that was somehow still attached to him. Baffled at the fact that he wasn’t dead yet, Draco just stared.

“It’s mine to take and mine to break!” the man said, before he crushed it in the palm of his hand.

Draco’s own terrified screams were what woke him.

“Fuck!”

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Unable to back to sleep, he had roamed the Manor and ended up in his study. 

Draco was angry at himself, at Potter, at life in general. Why had he let things go this far? Why had he let himself become this frightened trapped individual that couldn’t even leave the main building, let alone the house? Having Pansy over now and then was okay, but it didn’t help him with his problem. He realised he needed professional help to overcome his fear, but how to go about it he wondered. Since his movements were restricted he couldn’t very well go out to seek help. He didn’t know who was a good therapist and who wasn’t and he didn’t want to ask Pansy to help him, because as competent as she was in sorting out her family’s business all over the world, she was pants at finding a decent doctor, or rather she had a knack to single out the worst of them. If Pansy chose to see one, they were usually best avoided at all costs.

Draco slumped in his chair in the study. It was dark and cold outside and snow was covering the grounds, there was nothing to do but worry and obsess until the new potion ingredients arrived.

“Shit!” he said out loud.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” Draco added for good measure, running his hand through his hair in a gesture of exhaustion. “Fucking Harry Potter!” He went on, seeing how it was all his fault. 

He almost jumped out of his skin when a leather-bound book literally jumped off the shelf he had placed it on months earlier. It had fallen to the floor face down. At first Draco couldn’t make out what had made it fall in the first place, until he realised that it must have burst open when he spoke. A word he had said must have unlocked it, because now the white pages were covered in, if not neat, at least readable script. Draco skimmed through it, noticing that page after page was filled with what could only be diary entries.

Draco closed the diary and laid it onto his desk, to test his theory.

“Harry Potter!” he said aloud once more and the book flew open in front of him, revealing the first page. Draco couldn’t help himself as curiosity overcame him and began to read.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _5th September 1998_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _It’s always Draco fucking Malfoy! Why does he have to be everywhere? I can’t seem to escape him. He was constantly around me at Hogwarts, his fate during the war haunted me and now I have to be his custodian and have him in my home for a year? Why me? Isn’t what I did for him enough? Isn’t it enough that I testified on his behalf? Does the Wizengamot want to punish me for not being their perfect little marionette?  
>  Merlin, living with him is going to be torture. Isn’t it enough that he invades my dreams? Why does he have to invade my daylight hours as well? I hate him so much for how he makes me feel and I hate who I become in those dreams._  
> 

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

It was dark when Draco finally reached the last page. So, Harry had been ashamed and confused. He’d thought that Draco hadn’t wanted him and felt guilty over forcing himself on him. Just as the magnitude of the misunderstanding still separating them began sinking in, a pale glass bottle two-thirds filled with sand appeared beside the diary with a small pop. Draco picked it up and shook it gently thus revealing that there was a rolled up piece of parchment buried in the sand. He tried summoning it to no avail. Checking the bottle for curses out of sheer habit, Draco picked it up and pulled the stopper. Sand immediately began spilling over his fingers.

With every grain of sand tumbling over his outstretched hand came the memory of a shared moment, a touch, an emotion flashing through his mind. The flashes came quicker and became clearer the more sand got into contact with his skin. Overwhelmed by the raw emotion in them, he tried to tilt the bottle up again but suddenly found he couldn’t. One image slowly began to push all others aside. Not unlike with a Pensieve, Draco suddenly found himself immersed in one of Harry’s memories.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Ginny had fallen up the three tiny innocent looking front steps of their home. This had happened many times in the past, when they were still moving in and usually ended with either of them cursing the ‘stupid stairs’ and vowing to get them fixed soon. They had never got around to it.

He was sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair in a bright corridor in St Mungo’s. Ginny had been treated and Harry was waiting to be let in to see her. He was sick with worry that something might have happened to their child, because she’d complained of severe abdominal pain while they had waited for the healer. Harry had paced the corridor for over an hour already and exhaustion was catching up with him. He tried to find a comfortable position to sit in on a chair that was designed to prevent exactly that. Strange what one focuses on when the mind is paralysed with fear.

After what seemed like an eternity, a healer approached Harry and sat down beside him.

“How is she? Is she okay, is the baby okay?”

“Your wife will make a full recovery Mr. Potter.” Relief flooded Harry at those words only to be crushed when the healer continued. “I am afraid we couldn’t save the baby. Her fall caused early contractions which we were unable to stop and the foetus was too weak to survive. I am sorry.” 

“I… what… no! James!” Harry had jumped up and was shouting. It couldn’t be. His baby had to be okay. This couldn’t be happening. “I need to speak to Ginny!”

“I ‘m sorry Mr. Potter, but your wife is refusing to see you at this moment.”

Not caring about what the healer had said, Harry raced to the door they had carried his wife through hours earlier. He tried forcing it open to no avail and began pounding on it with his fist.

“Gin, Ginny Darling, let me in please. Please talk to me.” _Don’t leave me alone with this. Don’t leave me._

The healer had finally caught up with him and cast a silenced bubble around them to keep the disturbance he was creating to a minimum.

“Mr. Potter, you are causing our patients distress. I will remind you that if you cannot adhere to a request as simple as keeping quiet in a hospital, you will be escorted off the premises!”

“But I need to see my wife, I need to speak to her!”

“I understand your anger Mr. Potter, but you should respect that she is too unwell to receive you at this point. If you come back tomorrow I am sure she’ll be willing to see you then.”

“Ginny!” Harry yelled, ignoring the healer and continuing to pound on the door.

“You are only causing yourself harm; the doors are all warded and silenced against attempted forced entry for the safety of our patients. Your wife can’t hear you, Mr. Potter. I have to ask you to leave now.”

Harry didn’t know what to do or how to express what he felt except through outbursts of intense rage. He pushed the healer aside none too gently and stormed out of the hospital.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Harry had been pacing in agitation at Grimmauld Place for what felt like eternity. The only thing that kept him sane was the constant motion. He was afraid that if he stopped if only for a second, the despair and loss would break over him like the crest of a wave and carry him away back into the darkness.

He had to get out of the house. He needed the wide open sky above him. Harry grabbed his broom on the way out and kicked off right away. 

The night air was cold, the first signs of frost showing under the starlit sky. For a while he flew aimlessly and when he couldn’t bear the leisurely pace any longer, he flew faster and faster, not even caring where he was headed, the feeling of the cold wind biting into his cheeks and the rush of air by his ears as he chased through the night the only thing that mattered. He couldn’t let himself feel the loss. He knew he would fall apart if he did. The race was the only thing that had any meaning because it was taking him further and further away from his sorrow.

Harry never found out how he found his way to Wiltshire so easily. It must have been that part of him that he had tried to hide away that had led him there, while the rational part of him was slowly going insane with grief. All he knew was that he suddenly found himself in front of Draco’s home.

They hadn’t spoken in years, and the rational part of Harry knew that he had no right to show up like this, but the part of him that knew what Harry needed had brought him here. It made him knock.

Draco was dressed in only his pyjama bottoms, just like Harry remembered and had thrown on a morning gown before rushing to the door.

“Potter, what in Merlin’s name are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Draco’s voice sounded annoyed and Harry supposed he had every right to.

“I…” was all he managed, before he passed out from the strain he’d put himself through.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

He couldn’t have said how much later it was, when he woke up. He didn’t know where he was, all he knew as that he was warm, finally and that he wasn’t alone. He tried to open his eyes and managed to at the second attempt.

“What…” he forced out.

“That’s what I would like to know, you stupid Gryffindor!”

“Draco.” Harry whispered as if surprised by the fact that he was really here with him.

“Yes, me. Now, if you would be kind enough to tell me why you woke me in the middle of the night only to pass out on my doorstep…” He never got any further, because Harry threw himself into his arms knocking the wind out of him and clinging to him as if for dear life.

Draco was here, he was really here! Harry wouldn’t have been able to believe it, if it hadn’t been for the strong arms that held him. The time apart seemed to have been nothing but a bad dream, he was here with the man he loved and that was all that mattered, not how he got here or what happened, just this. Death and loss were a thing of the past, even Ginny. Ginny and the baby, his baby that he would now never get to know.

“Oh God, no, please no, it can’t be true,” Harry choked out, before tearing himself away from Draco and being violently sick onto his expensive carpet. His entire body shook and heaved until his stomach was empty, the shock of events finally having caught up with him.

“Here drink this,” Draco said after vanishing the sick, pressing a glass of water in Harry’s shaking hands and helping him to take a few sips, before setting it down on the table. He conjured a warm wet cloth and carefully cleaned Harry up. He pulled him close again, rocking him gently back and forth.

“Shhh, it’s alright Harry, everything is going to be alright. Please just tell me what’s wrong!”

“I… I can’t…” Harry’s voice broke and dry sobs wracked his frame. He buried his face in Draco’s shoulder, holding on to him tightly. Harry could feel Draco’s lips press into the crown of his head tenderly and then felt them move as he spoke against his hair.

“Harry, is it okay if I use Legimency? I need to know what’s wrong, if you want me to help you.”

Harry could only nod. He was terrified of Legimency after what Snape had put him through, but speaking about his loss was more than he could bear.

Draco’s fingers gently pressed into Harry’s temple and he leaned his forehead against Harry’s. Physical contact wasn’t necessary but Draco seemed to want to make Harry feel as comfortable as possible during the process. He felt Draco’s mind gently probe his and could see images of the day’s events flicker past. Ginny’s stumble and fall in front of Grimmauld Place, their rush to the hospital, the endless hours of waiting and pacing and then the healer speaking to him. The images became a blur after that and stopped with his arrival at Draco’s front door. Draco’s presence withdrew from his mind and Harry felt empty and lost without him.

He was afraid that Draco would leave and clung to him.

“Please, please don’t make me leave. I don’t want to be alone. I just can’t bear it… I just can’t…”

“I won’t. I will stay with you. I’m so sorry Harry. I wish I could make things alright again, but I’m afraid no one can.” Draco’s tone was gentle and his arms were wrapped around Harry again. The finality of Draco’s words made Harry’s loss real to him, and he couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Exhaustion must have eventually claimed Harry, because when he awoke he was in Draco’s bed. He’d slept there only once before, but he would never forget that room. Draco was holding him in his arms protectively, pulling him tighter to his chest when Harry tried to move away. A small smile stole across Harry’s face and he snuggled closer, inhaling the delicious scent of everything uniquely Draco, drifting off into a deep and dreamless sleep for the first time in months.

The next time he awoke it was starting to get light outside and he could hear the first birds of a new day. Draco still lay beside him, his arm draped protectively over Harry’s hip and his soft breath tickling his neck. Harry slowly and carefully turned around without breaking their embrace. His heart filled with wonder when he was yet again overwhelmed with the beauty of a sleeping Draco. His hand slowly crept upward and he couldn’t stop himself from touching the sleeping face in front of him. Harry carefully ran his fingers along Draco’s lips, up his nose and across his brows only to follow the line of his jaw and alight on his lips again. He longed to kiss those lips with every fibre of his being, but wasn’t sure he would be allowed such liberties. Seeking comfort was one thing, initiating anything beyond that was something else entirely.

He could feel Draco’s breathing change through the hand that was still resting against his chest, the man was waking up. Harry knew he should remove his hands from Draco’s lips but he couldn’t make himself. He could feel those gorgeous lips stretch into a smile under his fingers and was rewarded with a kiss to each fingertip, before Draco opened his eyes.

“Can’t say you’ve changed much over the years Potter. You still can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself!” Draco mocked gently, the smile never leaving his eyes.

Being held and taken care of by this confident version of Draco was exactly what he needed. Harry leaned in, his lips only inches from Draco’s silently asking permission and when he didn’t pull away, Harry closed the distance between them. The kiss progressed languidly and gently. Harry traced the lines of Draco’s lips with his tongue and when he opened his mouth and their tongues touched carefully, it was as if the spark still alight in his heart grew and grew until he felt like his entire being was on fire.

Draco reached for him then. Harry could feel Draco’s hands gently tracing his arms, and chest. They were still lying on their sides, their position slightly awkward but neither seemed willing to move if it involved breaking their kiss.

Harry was surrounded by Draco’s scent and his lips were wet with their saliva. Harry felt like the only thing keeping him alive and rooted to reality was the man in front of him. He couldn’t have stopped kissing Draco if he’d tried.

Draco’s hand was holding onto Harry’s neck as his thumb caressed Harry’s cheek. Draco’s fingers skated over Harry’s skin with feathery touches and ended up tangled in Harry’s hair as Draco kissed him passionately. Harry revelled in the feeling of those fingers on his scalp, moaning softly into the kiss, as he gave himself over to Draco’s ministrations completely.

His own hand that wasn’t pressed to Draco’s bare chest was roaming across Draco’s back and sides, tracing the lines of his spine and ribs and finally finding its way into Draco’s pyjama bottoms. Harry cupped the perfect round globes of Draco’s arse. He gasped into Harry’s mouth before kissing him back more forcefully as Harry’s fingers dipped into the crack between his buttocks.

Somehow Harry managed to pull both their pyjama bottoms down far enough to reach for their cocks. Draco was now cradling his face, never breaking the kiss and almost clinging to it. Soft moans escaped him and Harry swallowed them greedily as he wanked them slowly and expertly.

Harry could tell they were close by the hitch in their breathing. He wanted more though. Falling right back into their established roles with Harry as the instigator, Draco rolled onto his back and pulled Harry on top of him. He ground his erection slowly against Harry’s. Harry could see Draco’s parted lips as he leant up for another toe-curling kiss.

The urge to give in to temptation was strong and Harry had to use all of his self control to break the kiss and back off. He pushed himself up on his arms, looking down on Draco, whose pupils were blown wide with lust. This wouldn’t do.

“No!” he said, sounding determined.

Harry saw disappointment flicker across Draco’s features and, overcome with the need to reassure Draco, he leant down and kissed him again. He gathered Draco into his arms and held him as tightly as he could. His face was pressed against Draco’s and he was breathing onto Draco’s neck.

“I want you to fuck me!” he whispered.

Harry could feel Draco stiffen in his embrace. He sat back on his haunches staring down at his lover. Harry could see Draco’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed audibly, before wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Are you sure?” Draco’s voice was shaking as he spoke.

Harry reached for Draco, touching his lips with his index and middle finger and stroking the lower lip while he spoke.

“I need you to!”

“Okay.”

Harry crawled over to Draco again, lying down beside him. Draco was still lying on his back, breathing shakily. He turned his face to Harry’s and Harry drew him close into another tender kiss. 

When the kiss ended they both lay there panting, just looking at each other. Draco reached out and pressed his hand against Harry’s chest, spreading his fingers and pushing Harry onto his back, never breaking eye-contact.

Harry’s heart began beating faster when Draco moved over to his side of the bed and removed the rest of their clothing before settling himself between Harry’s open thighs. He moaned at the feeling of Draco’s body pressed so closely against his own and thrust up against him to create more friction. 

He started to reach for his prick, but Draco slapped his hand away. There was a strange glint in his eyes that scared Harry for a moment, but then Draco was kissing him, tracing the seam of his lips with his tongue and then demanding entrance. Harry could only moan helplessly as his mouth was plundered. Draco was taking charge and he was able to let himself go just a little bit more. Even though he was familiar with most of the steps he had someone to guide him through this uncharted territory, someone who wouldn’t hurt him.

Harry hands were roaming Draco’s body, touching everywhere he could reach, relearning all the little places that made him gasp and hiss and moan. They were kneading and stroking his back, then travelled across Draco’s lower back and came to rest on his backside, squeezing the beautiful firm buttocks and pushing their groins closer together. They both moaned.

Draco began kissing his throat, Harry gasped and threw his head back exposing more skin for Draco to explore. Harry shivered convulsively as Draco began kissing, nipping and licking a trail down his torso. When Draco’s tongue dipped into Harry’s navel, Harry’s abdominal muscles rippled and contracted.

A trembling moan of relief escaped Harry when Draco finally reached his already leaking prick and lapped at it languidly.

“Oh God!” Harry moaned, when Draco’s mouth suddenly engulfed the head of his penis. He could see Draco grin around his prick before releasing it with a pop.

“Call me Draco!” he said, breaking the tension and making Harry laugh shakily.

“Prick!” Harry said, good naturedly.

“Takes one to know one!” They were both grinning now.

After that Draco went back to devouring Harry’s prick. Overwhelmed by the glorious feeling of having his cock sucked, his head fell back onto the pillow and he voiced his pleasure in a loud moan. Harry could feel his hips involuntarily thrusting up into Draco’s warm slick mouth, that motion however was soon prevented when Draco held his hips down as his head bopped up and down quickly a few times.

Draco only released Harry’s penis to reach for his wand and cast a lubrication and preparation charm, making Harry shiver at the sudden strange feeling. Draco took his time preparing Harry, despite the charms he had just cast. His breath ghosted over Harry’s prick as he slid two fingers inside of him, holding them close together as he pushed them in and scissoring them open when he pulled them out again.

Harry was torn between wanting Draco’s mouth on him again or those fingers deeper inside him. He couldn’t believe it, there were now three fingers inside of him, working him open slowly. He was pushing his hips down on Draco’s hand, trying to pull the fingers in deeper, not even caring how wanton that would make him appear. His entire body jerked when Draco’s fingers touched something deep inside of him.

“Sweet Merlin!” Harry gasped. So that’s what it felt like. He’d heard about what it was like to have one’s prostate stimulated, had done it to Draco dozens of times, but never experienced it himself. Lightening bolts of pleasure ran from the tiny nub through his entire body, making him arch his back involuntarily as Draco touched it again and for a moment Harry thought he would come.

His breathing was ragged when Draco finally withdrew his hand, working the residue of the lubricant up and down his shaft and wiping the rest of it onto the sheets beside them.

“Pull up your knees.” Draco said, his voice sounding husky. Harry could see him wet his lips nervously, but obeyed before he could change his mind. He reached behind his knees, held on to his thighs and pulled them to his chest.

“Is this okay?” Harry asked.

Draco only nodded, obviously unable to speak. He reached over and grabbed one of his pillows, helping Harry to lift his pelvis even higher and placing it under him. Harry assumed that it was to ease penetration and suddenly felt overwhelmed by a weird mixture of guilt and gratitude that Draco was taking such care of him.

Harry felt exposed as he lay there, holding himself open for Draco, but somehow it was okay. Draco was looking down at him with such devotion in his eyes that the sheer magnitude of the emotion humbled Harry.

When he felt Draco’s prick nudge against his hole, he shivered in anticipation. This was it. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. Draco pushed slowly inside, his prick feeling huge and stretching Harry so far it hurt. All breath left his lungs in a hiss and Draco stopped moving with only the head of his cock buried. The burn subsided faster than Harry would have thought possible.

“Do you want me to stop?” Draco said, his voice shaky with need.

“No, I… actually I’m okay.” Harry said, sounding surprised to his own ears. The burning had subsided entirely now, surely this wasn’t normal.

“Soothing element in the lubrication spell.” Draco said, before pushing forward until his entire length was buried inside Harry. They were both shaking with need and exchanged sloppy kisses as they waited for Harry to get used to the sensation. He nodded slowly, when he thought he could take it.

Draco pulled out of him slowly almost all the way, before pushing back in, their skin making a slapping sound when Draco was sheathed all the way once more. Draco picked up the pace, if only slightly and Harry met each and every one of his thrusts, still not quite enjoying himself, but not wanting to stop either way.

It was at the exact moment when Harry shifted restlessly, needing more but not quite knowing how to ask for it, that Draco hit his prostate. Harry arched his body, throwing his head back and moaning in pleasure. Draco angled all his thrusts at that brilliant spot inside of him, Harry turning into a quivering mess. As much as he hated the want inside of him, it made him feel alive, Draco made him feel whole and safe and… and he hit the spot again, making light explode in front of Harry’s eyes.

“More, I need, more.” He gasped as he pushed back more forcefully.

Draco complied fucking him with short and hard thrusts, hitting Harry’s prostate with every single one of them.

“Oh God, Draco, I need, oh please, Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco!” Harry’s own chant was loud in his but was almost drowned out by the pounding of his own heart.

Harry surrendered himself completely to Draco’s savage thrusts. He was sure he was leaving scratches and bruises all over Draco’s back, but he’d never felt more alive, never this out of control and never so much like his true self. There was no discord in his mind, there was just room for him and Draco in this very moment. This absence of guilt, shame and worry was liberating and with every one of Draco’s thrusts he met, he let himself go a little more, letting the freedom of his position wash over him.

Harry’s legs were no longer squeezed between their thrusting bodies. His thighs had fallen wide open under Draco’s assault. In those moments of thrusting, writhing and pushing Harry couldn’t have said where he ended and Draco began. It was as if they had become one being shrouded in lust and need and want.

Harry’s breath came in short ragged puffs. He reached up to pull Draco into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. Harry’s arms wrapped themselves around Draco’s neck, keeping him close as he panted and moaned against Draco’s lips, biting, lapping and pulling at them as he got closer and closer to his climax.

Draco’s took a firm hold of Harry’s erection and started pulling him off in time with his thrusts. Harry could feel his orgasm approaching. It started in the balls of his feet and rushed through him like lightening, his muscles tightened and warmth pooled in his belly before his release burst out of him, coating his abdomen in thick strings of pearly white liquid. 

Harry could feel himself contracting around Draco’s erection, he was clinging to Draco and kissing him with abandon as he slowly came down from his incredible high. Every time Draco hit his prostate another shudder went through him and his penis ejected a few more drops of white.

Draco thrust into him a few more times, while Harry clung to him, as if he was scared he might fall apart if he ever let go, before he came with a shout of his own that was almost entirely swallowed by Harry’s mouth.

They were covered in sweat when Draco finally collapsed on top of Harry, his arms unable to support him any longer. Harry could feel Draco’s heart beat in time with his own. He still wasn’t letting go, his thighs were wrapped around and entangled with Draco’s legs and Harry’s hands were running up and down Draco’s sweat-slicked back. Draco was breathing against Harry’s skin, his face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck. Who attempted to raise himself up.

“I’m getting too heavy for you.” Draco said.

Harry didn’t reply but instead held Draco close to him. _Don’t go, please don’t go, stay with me, in this moment forever_. Harry tried to convey his feelings through touch, because he couldn’t find the words, but Draco seemed to understand. He let himself be held by Harry, who had never felt this safe and protected in his entire life, even though he was the one clinging to Draco.

He didn’t know how long they lay there, but after a while he could feel Draco’s softening prick slip from his hole, followed by the odd sensation of his come. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, but he still couldn’t seem to make himself move.

The decision was taken off his hands when Draco turned them onto their sides facing each other. His hands were now ceaselessly skating over Harry’s skin while the expression of post orgasmic bliss on his face was slowly replaced by one of wonder. Draco pulled Harry’s hand to his lips and kissed the tip of each finger gently. He intertwined their hands and pressed them to his chest.

Harry stared at him, seeing his flushed faced, his wide pupils, and the errant strand of hair that stuck to his sweaty forehead and realised that he’d never seen anything more beautiful. He reached out to brush the strand of hair from Draco’s forehead, traced the shape of his brow with his thumb before he moved his hand down to cup Draco’s cheek, caressing the soft skin gently. Draco pressed his cheek into the palm of Harry’s hand and the moment was everything their first kiss under the roses had been, only better in the way that Harry knew Draco wanted and needed him as much as he did.

At this point in time Harry was free of guilt, of obligations and expectations. He was _just Harry_ and that was enough for him. It also appeared to be enough for Draco, whose smile at this moment was something Harry would never forget.

They just lay there, looking at each other and caressing each other’s skin, as if they both weren’t quite sure this moment was real and they had to reassure themselves that they were actually here.

Harry was already dozing off and hardly noticed when Draco cast a non-verbal cleaning spell and pulled the covers over them. He did feel Draco pulling him close and snuggled up to him, inhaling his scent and revelling in the warmth of the beautiful body pressed against his own. With an all-encompassing sense of peace and belonging Harry drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Harry was distraught. He shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t be here with Draco, he should sit in the hospital like any good husband and wait for his wife to deal with her own sorrow so she would see him. He shouldn’t have tried to forget his grief by seeking out Draco and sleeping with him. And yet here he still was, dressed and ready to go, but still perched on the side of the man’s bed. Draco’s hair was ruffled and spread on the pillow like a white-gold halo. How could anyone not love this image. How could anyone resist or even want to. He knew that after tonight things would never be the same for him.

Harry finally believed that Draco had actually wanted him and that through his own guilt and fear he had destroyed their chance of happiness forever. He knew he had to go back to his wife soon or she would be suspicious, but he couldn’t leave yet. His wand in one hand and his hand gently touching Draco’s cheek, he just sat there, unable to look his fill at the beautiful man he had to abandon yet again. He would say it this time and this time there would be no pain for Draco, only for him and there was enough grief to go around lately. Nobody would know that he wasn’t only grieving the loss of his child, but also the loss of his lover.

Harry leant in close and pressed one last gentle kiss to Draco’s perfect lips. His upward motion to withdraw was cut short when Draco’s hand shot out, holding onto his neck and pulling him in for another desperate kiss, almost as if Draco knew that Harry would leave soon.

Harry pressed his forehead into Draco’s, his eyes closed and his hands cradling Draco’s face, the wand pressing uncomfortably into their skin.

“I have to go, they are waiting for me at the hospital,” Harry whispered.

“I know,” was all Draco said in reply.

Harry kissed him again, unwilling to let go just yet.

Holding Draco’s face in his hands, he whispered against his lips.

“I love you. I’ve tried not to, Merlin knows I’ve tried, but I do, I love you.”

Draco’s surprised and happy face burned itself into his memory. The man was too overwhelmed for a moment to speak. 

“I’m sorry.” Harry whispered, raised his wand, pointed it at Draco’s temple and cast an _obliviate._

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

The memory began to fade slowly as the last grains of sand trickled out of the bottle. Draco was overwhelmed with what he had learned and now remembered. What Harry had chosen to show him had become intertwined with his own returning memories. It was all true. He could remember everything from that night, every touch, every word they had spoken, even remembered the feeling of Harry’s wand pressed against his temple.

Despite what he now remembered, he didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t know whether to be happy at Harry’s declaration of love or sad because he had chosen to remove that very thing from his memory. He was brought out of his reverie when the message still in the bottle slowly slid out of its tight neck and unscrolled itself on the desk in front of him. It was a letter addressed to him by Harry. The parchment felt brittle and strange under his fingers, which was probably due to the insane amount of wards and safeguards charmed to the paper. Draco got the distinct impression that he would be the only one beside Harry to ever be able to read what it said.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

>   
> 
> 
> _7th October 2005  
>  12 Grimmauld Place, London_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Draco,_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _I’ve sent you my diary and the memories I have of our time together for you to understand.  
>  I am so very sorry for everything I’ve put you through and for what I did to you. If only you could find it in you to forgive me. I’ve lost so many people I cared for over the years, but losing you still hurts and I am hoping desperately that I am not wrong to assume that you feel for me too. I am revealing myself to you through this record of my thoughts and feelings.  
> Please speak to me Draco. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone. I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness for what I did and I don’t expect it, I wish with all my being that you’ll hear me out and that maybe we can find new ground to begin again.  
> You make me feel like I can truly be myself, like I don’t have to pretend to be something I am not, because you already know me. You are the only one I want to touch, the only one I want to wake up next to for the rest of my life.  
> Don’t tell me I am too late. One word from you will silence me forever, but if you still have feelings for me and if you still want me, I am forever yours.  
> If you are willing to see me, please send me a note, I sent a patch of the ones I used to send you messages at our time at the office together attached to this parcel, because I can’t be sure you would keep them around. I hope to hear from you soon._  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _With all my heart,_  
> 

>   
> 
> 
> _Harry_  
> 


End file.
